frog facade (prompt 1)

there are days where it feels more like swimming
drifting lazy days of graceful treading of being pulled sweetly
days of weightless surrender where I can’t remember
how heavy it really is to live
in this body
in this place
in this time

there are days where I try to make light
to make myself lighter in spite of the heat waves
waves that will grow warmer each year as surface taunts and roils
how much can you handle
as it ripples
as it rises
as it builds

there are days where my womb is swollen with lead
where I fight to pretend that it doesn’t ache like an anchor threatening
to turn the potential for creating life into an albatross
how something I cannot see
is a sentence
is a punishment
is a powder keg

there are days where it feels more like drowning
like swift strategic swells eroding layer by layer
until there is nothing left to ground me
how what stood firm and unyielding is stripped
of pounds
of safety
of rights

there are days where my vast sacred is subject to change
shimmering pools become a steel wall surrounding
while the heat is turned up and somewhere there is a voice
forbidding that the thermostat be adjusted
by a child
by a woman
by a frog

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