Photo by Aki Nakazawa on Unsplash
I read you Bluets,
for you love Maggie Nelson
and I love your eyes.
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More stories from sophie may wang and writers in Poets and other communities.
Thirty (one) and Neither Flirty nor Thriving.
I'm thirty-one and orbiting the same few mistakes like they're landmarks. London is already awake before I am (or before I've slept) - sirens somewhere far enough to ignore, buses sighing at stops, people moving with purpose I can't quite borrow. I lie there for a bit, tasting last night at the back of my throat, trying to remember if I meant to drink that much or if it just...happened again.
By Stacey Vella7 days ago in Psyche
Comments (1)
I ADORE this Poem. Oh, it is just so lovely and really spoke to me. My nickname as a child was Blueberry Eyes, and I also worked on a blueberry farm for 6 years, packing them in the warehouse each summer and planting baby bushes outside for the last 2 of those 6 years. We’d get up in the morning to work at 5 am and work until the sun became a hazard in the afternoon, and then come back in the early evening to pack up the harvest. Some of the best memories! Thank you for taking me back!