When I’m standing at this ridge between today and tomorrow,
And I’m learning to fix my mouth to call myself a woman,
And l scratch for the crack of a niche in which I’ll fall into place,

I exhale and I write.

When I feel like I’m falling,
And everything I understand is slipping from under me,
And time has pulled the security of the familiar from under my nose,
I exhale and I write.

When I work tirelessly and travel far,
And I want nothing more but rest,
And I cannot bring myself to sleep,
I exhale and I write.

And my words,
And my words,
And my words,
They bring me peace.