Sarah Kay Quote
Whenever I hurt myself, my mother saysit is the universe’s way of telling me toslow down. She also tells me to put somecoconut oil on it. It doesn’t matter what itis. She often hides stones underneath mypillow when I come home for the weekend.The stones are a formula for sweet dreamsand clarity. I dig them out from the streets,she tells me what each one is for. My throathurts, so she grinds black pepper into aspoonful of honey, makes me eat the entirething. My mother knows how to tie knotslike a ship captain, but doesn’t know howI got that sailor mouth. She falls asleepin front of the TV only until I turn it off,shouts, I was watching that! The sourdoughshe bakes on Friday is older than I am.She sneaks it back and forth across the countrywhen she flies by putting the starter in smallcontainers next to a bag of carrots.They think it’s ranch dressing, she giggles.She makes tea by hand. Nettles, slippery elm,turmeric, cinnamon- my mother is a recipefor warm throats and belly laughs. Onceshe fell off of a ladder when I was three.She says all she was worried about wasmy face as I watched her fall.
Whenever I hurt myself, my mother saysit is the universe’s way of telling me toslow down. She also tells me to put somecoconut oil on it. It doesn’t matter what itis. She often hides stones underneath mypillow when I come home for the weekend.The stones are a formula for sweet dreamsand clarity. I dig them out from the streets,she tells me what each one is for. My throathurts, so she grinds black pepper into aspoonful of honey, makes me eat the entirething. My mother knows how to tie knotslike a ship captain, but doesn’t know howI got that sailor mouth. She falls asleepin front of the TV only until I turn it off,shouts, I was watching that! The sourdoughshe bakes on Friday is older than I am.She sneaks it back and forth across the countrywhen she flies by putting the starter in smallcontainers next to a bag of carrots.They think it’s ranch dressing, she giggles.She makes tea by hand. Nettles, slippery elm,turmeric, cinnamon- my mother is a recipefor warm throats and belly laughs. Onceshe fell off of a ladder when I was three.She says all she was worried about wasmy face as I watched her fall.