I hate the word liminal
It’s 3 PM on a Wednesday and I’m dancing to my favorite anime theme song eating mozzarella in the kitchen – so fucking quirky. Yesterday I took a shower for so long the inner curtain fused to the outer. Steam invaded my bedroom and hung there while I lay naked on my bed, best friend on speaker, towel bleeding my pillow from cyan into azure. We cried about grief not yet realized: mine, my parents dying; hers, her own inevitable death. I mentioned how droplets don’t just slide, but also skim and stick. She told me she has a compartment in her fridge just for cheese. I hate the word liminal. You can restart your life at any moment. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.
Katherine Schmidt is a researcher currently based in Washington, D.C. Her poems are published or forthcoming in Thimble Literary Magazine, 3Elements Literary Review, Unbroken, and New Note Poetry. She is a co-founder and co-editor of Spark to Flame Journal.
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