This week’s Artist Corner feature comes from writer and bad-luck-traveler, Molly Farber. It is a slam poem called TOMORROW’S LOVE.
Don’t forget to leave a comment for Molly when you’re finished reading!
By Molly Farber
They call it love.
There is a satisfaction when our bones crack. That’s why we flex our knuckles, why we break into chuckles, turn and twist our neck and back. It feels good. It feels tight.
I call it love.
There is a similar reaction when our hair stands on end. There is a course of shame, maybe a force of blame, then all that’s left is to pretend. And even then, it’s just as it should. It feels right.
Would you call it love?
There is a space in our soft spoken heart, that when it fits into place, can’t be broken apart. It bends and extends like the hair on our skin, nearly glistening, and paired with power, wants to let someone in.
Maybe a moment.
If only for a moment. Imagine love were not an act. It could be perceivable, not so inconceivable, a downright fact.
As tangible as art and as present as tomorrow. What I wouldn’t give to let love borrow my heart.