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she's wondering how many women are walking around this world feeling the tingling of their amputated wings remembering what it was to fly to sing

Andrea Gibson

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Andrea Gibson
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: August 13
Poet
Calais
Maine
Andrew Gibson
Around
Remembering
Remember
Wondering
Women
Wings
Many
Sing
World
Walking
Wonder
Feeling
Amputated
Feelings
Tingling

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I would kiss you in the middle of the ocean during a lightning storm cuz I'd rather be left for dead than wondering what thunder sounds like.
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You are not weak just because your heart feels so empty.
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Someday we will dare to trade good for true
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This is my body. It is no one's but mine.
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Love isn't always magic. But if I offered my body to the magician, if I told him to cut me in half so after that I could come to you whole and ask for you back would you listen for this dark alley love song? For the winter we heated our home from the steam off our own bodies?
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You can stand on the cliff of my heart and shout nothing but ‘ugly’ through me. I promise all I will echo back is ‘Beauty, beauty, you have always been beauty
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Everything but I LOVE YOU is small talk.
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You can have a cold war with yourself, even in the summertime
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I have always been comfortable weathering the storm. I’d like to get more comfortable weathering the sunny day.
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I am living today as someone I had not yet become yesterday and tonight I will borrow only pieces of who I am today to carry with me to tomorrow.
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This is my heartbeat like yours, it is a hatchet It can build a house or tear one down.
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Touch me ‘til my ribs become piano keys, ‘til there is sheet music scrolled across the inside of my lungs.
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You keep worrying you’re taking up too much space. I wish you’d let yourself be the milky way.
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I know you think this world is too dark to even dream in color, but I’ve seen flowers bloom at midnight. I’ve seen kites fly in gray skies and they were real close to looking like the sunrise, and sometime it takes the most wounded wings the most broken things to notice how strong the breeze is, how precious the flight.
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...And for every day you paint the war, take a week and paint the beauty, the color, the shape of the landscape you’re marching towards. Everyone knows what you’re against show them what you’re for.
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We all have bullets beneath our skin we pray our lovers won't flinch at when they find.
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Touch me 'til my ribs become piano keys.
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I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling good. I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling bad. I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass.
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You can find me on the moon waxing and waning. My heart full of petals, every single one begging 'Love me, love me, love me. Whoever I am. Whoever I become.'
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That night when you kissed me, I left a poem in your mouth, and you can hear some of the lines every time you breathe out.
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