Extraordinary Machine

thinking my wonderful thoughts

I was so worried about my mental health postpartum and there were a few emotional days at first- but now I feel so, so good. It’s incredible. It’s just like a drug. I don’t have to go outside or eat my favorite foods or talk to my friends or be kissed or do my makeup and look pretty or listen to good music or make fun plans for the future. I’m having to make myself pull myself away from her so I can do all those other things. Because I’m used to them being important, and I know they will be again. But I’m so happy without any of them. It’s enough to be in this present moment with my perfect beautiful baby and take care of her and smell her and hug her all day. And I’m not even sleeping.

The blood is over, dirt dirt dirt and a new tree. The soil I scooped up in my cupped hands, the baby I fed at my breast. The warm wind blowing in. And what never ends.

I am certain I will wake, when it is time. I sleep very lightly, I eat as much as I can.

I contain multitudes, and so do my breasts. And there are no contradictions

I call you out on a mild day in May, I call you out like a sudden bird, I call you out with whispers and bells, I call you out with strong hands and slippery limbs, I call you out by way of ocean-born winds, I call you out north to south, I call you out to what is yours, which is me and whatever is mine

Good trick