indelicate

i've never been delicate, i know
clumsy feet with swollen ankles
trampling across heavy gold sand
i've never been innocent or honest
enough to walk with bare feet
on white sand in white cotton dresses.
Instead it's heavy soles
on calloused feet through muddy streams.

i prayed for myself one day hoping
my bones would grow thin
hollow fibres to make soft bird bones
for me to fly, thin tendons
holding delicate muscles,
instead of these tree sap muscles, knotted
around this carved granite
skeleton.

i can't walk straight tripping
over moss covered roots

i'm sorry; i'll never be delicate walking
on white sand, with pale skin
gleaming in the sun

i can traipse over black volcanic ash, fire
in my eyes, and charred skin
in the tarnished moonlight


forgive my weak mind