a poem about grief
the studio hums with sweat and ohms
faint musk of socks and surrender
teacher says "hip and heart openers"
and I almost laugh
as if the body were a lock,
and this practice the key
one breath in supta tadasana
and I come undone
salt water spilling from hidden fault lines
I didn't think was there before
the body is a vessel
it always keeps score
grief blooms from the hips, surprisingly deep rooted
in reclining mountain pose, my chest rises
two peaks split by grief
lips, trembling
lava tears, a small eruption
a hymn of release
the anger comes
sharp, red, absurdly alive
but beneath it only pain exists
tender and exposed
so I stay
let it flood,
let it name me
until I am new again
light, warm
a little less haunted


















