I Unfold

a messy poem

Unfolding never felt
as hard as this
wood floor
holding sacred tears
once wept

and wept and
weeping is keeping
some hold
to heart
and home

is far away
yet unknown
beckons a throne
for a Queen,
for a Queen—

She is seen
and maybe
there’s too much
to touch,
to free

and breathing
isn’t enough
of too much
stings,
grow my wings

in vibratory visits
humming above,
open to hug
me close,
between

these moments
of open
of broken
of unfolding
my me.

---

Unfolding is messy. Let yourself get messy.

Love you.

Really, I love you.

-HB

Photo by Steppeland - Lutgarde De Brouwer on Unsplash

This is an original, unpublished poem by Hunni Bloom.

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