catch and release it feels a little cruel, the lure the hook and the pull, just to hold them up and say how beautiful; (it feels a little like a tight grip at the hook of her arm, a squeeze and pull at the opposite shoulder, just to hold her to the lights and say smile, beautiful); if its a meditation like they say, if it's a show of respect, isn’t it also a show of power? look i lured and pulled and plucked you out of the water gasping (just to hold you up and say how beautiful; just because i could) but see i put you back instead of killing you outright. //mischa
listen, i don’t want any trouble. you do you. it’s just not for me. (probably this is like my former hang-up about bonsai trees and i will learn some other element of fly-fishing that will allow me to… get it. for now i have a poem about how i don’t, yet). 🤷♀️
friday notes-app poems are published here in celebration of the writing practice we sneak into spare little moments, when words tumble forth and we scurry to catch them. cheers to your scribbles on the back of an old birthday card, a faded receipt, and yes, in the notes app on your phone. carry on, scribe of precious unedited instants. 💚
i’ve slid these notes into their own little section on my substack site. you can find them all and everything else right here. xo
Mischa, I've written a response to this poem, and I wanted to link this poem to it. Do you mind if I message you a draft link? I want to make sure I've got the details of your substack right.
I adore this, Mischa!