Ensconced

Ensconced

Ensconced in the crevices of a beat up thrift store couch

And soaking deep in a bowl of soggy cereal,

Her reflection peeks through false idols on a tv screen

She is the pealing off from an eggshell colored wall

A mark on a barren journal page

And a tear in a random newspaper.

She is the breath between heartbeats

And the heartbeat between breaths

And the interruption of tears that make their encore appearance during

Moments such as this.

She is one with her pillow and bed,

Hiding from the sun.

A bottle of Bev Mo she kisses softly before

Opening herself wide to its magic. 

Instead, it puts her in a deep slumber…a place where she is protected

From the burn of the sun and shaming faces.

Its so much easier to slumber.  To hide. To soak in a dream where she is

Beautiful and bold and smart and thin and together.  And loved.

Reality, like San Francisco fog, slaps her gently on the face.

She awakens and decides she is all of those things…

…beautiful and bold and smart and together and loved

and fearless.

She takes a deep breath, steps forward, blessing the trees and the sun

…and the city lights and the people

With her presence.