gravity

by Ashley Kirkland

All my life I’ve wanted to be smooth

as mud on the riverbank, washed clean

as a skipping stone, to be held between

two careful fingers with purpose & intention.

There is always the gravity of water,

the way I can’t resist dipping a toe

in the current, the way waves lick up

the shore. Magnetism. I am drawn

to what I cannot help, to an inescapable

pull of the unknown, the new, the small,

a bookstore, a dingy bar. All my life

I’ve padded softly through the kitchen,

gently kicking the crumbs off the bottom

of my feet, stealing a piece of raspberry

coffee cake from the counter. To indulge

is to live and I intend to live (in spite

of myself), to pull everything in, 

let the seeds get stuck in my teeth. 

Ashley Kirkland writes in Ohio where she lives with her husband and sons. Her work can be found in Cordella Press, Boats Against the Current, The Citron Review, Naugatuck River Review, ONE ART, HAD, Major7thMagazine, among others. Her chapbook, BRUISED MOTHER, is available from Boats Against the Current. She is a poetry editor for 3Elements Literary Review. You can find her at lashleykirklandwriter on Instagram.