When I am Full When I am full, my hands go up and my toes go up.
I imagine myself floating in a great ocean of spring water.
Perfumed, fresh and smooth. I am like a fish shaped spoon, carved for movement and
speed, as well as for idle flotation. In my fiddlehead pool my maverick habit of always having to
walk on the left, deserts me. I dive and swim, float and
paddle like a seam ripper shoving the water aside. Brick
walls can only crumble at my approach, as I majestically
spout, soar and judder my way through the lagoon lake. My fullness finally sated, I am empty again.
The copyright of this post belongs to Valerie Rule