a poem a day in the month of may
(The Liminality Journal: Kaitlin Curtice)
Sweat: smelly and wet,
we apologize, hide it.
Still, *life* hard-earned.
***
Wash it off,
cover it up,
close those pores
with unfortunate chemicals.
Sorry, we say,
I’m dripping wet,
we say.
Don’t get too close!,
we say.
Here it is.
Life.
Hard work.
We stretch our muscles,
birth a baby,
till a garden.
Sometimes
the sweat on our brow
Is the price of words
that will not come,
an apology
long overdue,
an unspoken grief,
now gushing forth unchecked.
The work of our life,
this life,
is not meant
to be easy.
A Streak of Teal 