I like to cast my worries on a rushing river.
Harvest and eat only what I can pronounce.
I like to pray for sweet air and water.
Analyze and remember great poems.
I like to run my hands over my hips and be grateful for my own power.
Imagine kissing everyone I meet.
I like to leave a room confidently.
Subtract hurt like minor inconveniences.
I like to think I can survive on my own.
Build a haven with love. Nothing more.
I like to lie about lots of things, and often.
But not everything.