I step out of my old clothes:
\nshame, frustration, rage.<\/p>\n
I take them off like a child coming in from the cold
\ninto a warm house, throwing them in a wet pile
\non the floor.<\/p>\n
Again I am opening the door,
\nagain unzipping my coat.<\/p>\n
Over and over I must learn the same lessons
\nlike late October sleet
\nthat bends the birch, still heavy with leaves, almost to breaking – <\/p>\n
And again I shake if off, stand
\nin my same body in the light: here, now,
\nwater dripping from my sleeves.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I step out of my old clothes: shame, frustration, rage. I take them off like a child coming in from the cold into a warm house, throwing them in a wet pile on the floor. Again I am opening the door, again unzipping my coat. Over and over I must learn the same lessons like…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":159,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"issue":[9],"coauthors":[],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n