The things I carry

I carry love

love poured into me since

my childhood,

symbiotic and strong

palpitating,

Sacred.

I carry the remnants of betrayal,

the scars,

icky and messy,

searing, yet

sometimes revelatory as hell.

I carry with me the mess in my purse,

the scribbled notes

the mess of the last 4 years,

my trusty, black-ink pen,

my IDs,

the expired license I never had

time to throw away.

I carry with me the sound of voices of women everywhere -

my allies and sisters -

giving me a quiet kind of strength

that resonates and permeates

through me

like a nectar of Love.

I carry with me the memories of

my grandmother -

my halmoni who quietly prays for me

and wishes the world for me.

I carry with me the strength of my

friends - mes amis -

innocent, ever-lasting, constant,

my well of water

in this dry dessert.

I carry with me images gathered and

collected throughout my Life,

images of books, comforting pages,

of osmosis, physics, biology

of symbiosis, imprints,

of ducks.

I carry around with me the stories of

my ancestors

with their struggles of war, conflict, division,

the han of 70 years of a divided land.

I carry with me beautiful, effervescent,

orgasmic sounds -

notes that carry me to higher heights,

clearer water and soul,

inspiring me to be a better person

at the end of the day.

I carry with me a cup of blueberry yogurt

and a bottle of 2% reduced milk,

and granola bars

in case I forgot to eat a healthy breakfast

this morning.

I carry with me the impressions

bestowed by nature,

wrapped up in the gift of morning.

I carry with me the sight of sunrise

and sunset,

the recipients of my beholding -

my loving, yet weary gaze.

I carry around with me an old notebook,

that has given birth to my poems,

bearing witness to my words

and the litany of things

demanded of me

by the world that threatens to

suck me in -

the du jure list of headaches.

I carry with me hope,

hope for a better tomorrow

and the erasure of everything

that should be erased.