Someone tell my tongue…

Someone tell my tongue / what the honey is made of…

Hello WordPress,

I have been feeling a little cooped up lately. But I can’t say I know quite what to do with this much space. Would you look at these rafters? It deserves a whistle, but it’s not that kind of medium.

What do I want to tell you in all of this space? I want to say that my work is not for anything yet. It just is. Life is so long, friends. And it will take whatever it wants. But it is also wide. And if we keep our weather eyes on the horizon, we’re bound to find something useful.

I am a new mother and a student. I have laughably little time. Life keeps breaking me open again and again and I just keep spilling out. What it all has given me, without a doubt, is inspiration. So I just keep spinning it. I wish I could say I was going somewhere, but I’m not. Not yet, at least.

You and I meet here. To make inspiration and spin it together. I want to take it big one day. Be on all social media platforms every day. Post long blogs all the time. Go to markets with my typewriter. Put on poetry fortune teller shows. “Oh I have ambitions, dreams! But dreams don’t come cheap.”

When we say processing – what do we mean, I wonder? What are we making? Are we oysters? Are they pearls?

Well I am processing. And this is what it makes, me gnawing on everything. This is just what happens when I sit in a room and breathe.

What does it look like? A lot of nonsense, surely. I might write you a poem on the spot on my haunted typewriter. I might make a gift for you and someone you love. I may write something here that reaches you. I am just here to do what I know to do to be an artist.

Thanks for escaping the circus with me.

Much love,

Millie St. Waters

By milliestwaters

She’s a folk poet. You are at an open market. You stumble on her and her typewriter. What do you ask her for?

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