The wide open spaces

of my femininity are

impinging upon my


There, deep beyond sight and language

they will mingle, 

Leaving me with only

salt on my lips

I lay wandering 

as the expression of love

drains from my hips

This is it, in part, 

The dreadfully explosive sunset, 

is it, in part, 

The wrenching birth of a future child, 

is it, in part

The eventual aged cup of wine and stale bread crumbs

are it, in part

Yet, I still lay wandering in the wake

Salt on my lips

Sand under my fingertips 

Legs quaking in what was

and my taste buds anxiously awaiting

As the delayed collision of my femininity at its vastest

With the deep throes of my emptiness at its farthest 


There is no overlap or domination between the two

the ease in which one meets the other

is akin to fog inhabiting the earth

Slow, obscuring, heavily insubstantial

as it cloaks the innerworkings of Me, 

of Woman, of Life

Mercy is not far ahead, nor is collapsing far behind

The grooves for my life are being chisled 

To the specificity of my decisions

Thus, the silent war makes way

to the forefront

Rather than the background



Distanced from sight and language

As I lay wandering for answers



Anything but to feel the earth

beneath my feet as I 

Amble through the haze of Me

of Woman, of Life



Filed under le regard, marriage, memento vivere, poetry

2 responses to “(Untitled)

  1. I’ve already read this at least five times in the two days since you posted it. Each reading leaves me deeply stirred. After nearly 11 years of marriage I can still be found ambling through the haze of me, of woman, of life.

  2. maybe we all should amble together? i like the thought of being with others through this process…hope you’re well Shauna!

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