A water woman has no body
By Lisa Ciccarello
Emptiness is a blessing:
it can’t be owned if it doesn’t exist.
My father said to bloom but never fruit—
a small trickle
eating its way through stone.
I am one kind of alive:
I see everything the water sees.
I told you a turn was going to come
& turn the tower did.
What are the master’s tools
but a way to dismantle him.
Who will replace the blood of my mother in me—
a cold spring rising.
She told me a woman made of water
can never crack.
Of her defeat, she said
this is nothing.
I guess we're all going to be boring for the next few weeks? The highlight of the afternoon was watching Inception while Paul and I worked on our computers; I got in the mood to watch because of Doctor Strange, which made use of similar folding cityscape visuals, but I forgot what a great movie the former is all around -- okay, lots of problematic writing of female characters, but great performances and a really interesting sci-fi hook. I would never have rooted against The King's Speech that year but I can't believe there were people who thought The Social Network was a better movie than Inception.
The weather was gorgeous, and after Paul finished working for the day, we took a walk in Cabin John Park, where the crocuses are giving way to forsythia, daffodils, and early cherry blossoms. From there we went to my parents for dinner -- my mother apparently tracked down the last bag of flour in the greater DC area at Whole Foods for us -- then came home and caught up on Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (a lot of romantic and domestic drama, but at least that's true of all genders on the show) and watched more Jessica Jones in which David Tennant is so horrifying and upsetting, I have trouble watching. This week: