anna kiss

how it all happened

08/01/2001 - 09/01/2001 09/01/2001 - 10/01/2001 10/01/2001 - 11/01/2001 11/01/2001 - 12/01/2001 12/01/2001 - 01/01/2002 01/01/2002 - 02/01/2002 03/01/2002 - 04/01/2002 04/01/2002 - 05/01/2002 10/01/2002 - 11/01/2002 11/01/2002 - 12/01/2002 03/01/2003 - 04/01/2003 04/01/2003 - 05/01/2003 05/01/2003 - 06/01/2003 02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004 03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004 04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004 09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004 11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004 12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005 02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005 03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005 04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005 05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005 06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005 08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005 09/01/2005 - 10/01/2005 10/01/2005 - 11/01/2005 11/01/2005 - 12/01/2005 12/01/2005 - 01/01/2006 01/01/2006 - 02/01/2006 02/01/2006 - 03/01/2006 03/01/2006 - 04/01/2006 04/01/2006 - 05/01/2006 05/01/2006 - 06/01/2006 06/01/2006 - 07/01/2006 07/01/2006 - 08/01/2006 08/01/2006 - 09/01/2006 09/01/2006 - 10/01/2006 10/01/2006 - 11/01/2006 11/01/2006 - 12/01/2006 12/01/2006 - 01/01/2007 01/01/2007 - 02/01/2007 02/01/2007 - 03/01/2007 03/01/2007 - 04/01/2007 04/01/2007 - 05/01/2007 05/01/2007 - 06/01/2007 06/01/2007 - 07/01/2007 07/01/2007 - 08/01/2007 08/01/2007 - 09/01/2007 09/01/2007 - 10/01/2007 10/01/2007 - 11/01/2007 11/01/2007 - 12/01/2007 12/01/2007 - 01/01/2008 01/01/2008 - 02/01/2008

current

contact anna kiss: annakiss at annakiss dot com

A Month of Poetry

aleksander throws his body about the bed, trying to get comfortable among his sweat. the night is humid and hot. he is falling asleep and i have finished the last of many library books, which sit beside me scattered in the twin bed nestled between the full bed and the wall - the bed that is intended for him, but that sleeps jon most nights. he moves again, this time from head down, feet up, to head up, feet down, parallel to me. still not comfortable, he crawls, eyes closed, flopping his body lazily onto my torso. he climbs half over me and i'm wondering if he's waking up to get to the books, but he stops, rests his head on my shoulder, and i open his legs more fully to allow him to sleep comfortably upon me. his arms hang, do not hug. and i wonder, what is this? is this mothering? is this what it is all about? being a human bean bag? and of course the answer is yes. i am being used in the truest sense. and what occurs to me as i wait for him to be fully asleep, is that how i think of this is how i think of myself as mother. am i being taken advantage of? certainly. i am being used as a bed. but what does it mean? it means that i am comfort embodied - a good place to sleep. i am being put to use. i have a purpose as that which lulls one into a peaceful state, as that which is secure and unspoilt. i am a sanctuary unto my child. and this is not merely some selfless act that i commit for the well-being, or the well-sleeping of my son. this is a mutually beneficial relationship and he is possibly bringing more to me than i to him. by putting me to use, my body, my breasts, my womb - my son is giving me meaning. he is honoring with physical practice the intent of my biology - not only to harbor, but to nurture. what a gift it is to wholly sustain another, for i am not floundering, wondering which wall to lean on, but am standing upright and bearing the weight of the future. i am gifted myself from the load that i carry. i am proven to myself of my worth and my strength. and i ask, is there anything more right in this world?

posted by anna kiss @ 9/03/2004 02:39:00 AM

9.03.2004