Or at least carry something –
the shopping, a tray,
this raw and bleeding heart
cut from my chest,
the burden of my
foolish choices, my misplaced faith,
the washing basket,
I don’t know.
head high back straight shoulderblades pulled together belly tight chin up
point your toes
move your hands smoothly or keep them tight at your waist
carry me home with one shoe dangling swinging from my left foot,
or carry me off trussed in too tight dress and thrown sack over shoulder
or carry a tune
or a message in code that only I can decipher and burn after reading
Chasing rabbits with Ms Quickly today. Two words: “carry me”.