Golden Bay Kundalini

Golden Bay Kundalini

tonight, when i needed

a cigarette,

you were a silver, shining harbour;

we bumped prows

for a minute or five,

your earrings aglint,

singing our paved ocean alive;

kindly Elizabeth,

my glamorous

stateside enabler.

thirty minutes previous,

i’d been sat, shoeless,

in a hot room,

trying to raise my kundalini.

i feel there’s a lot

that’s avalanched it

of late,

and retrieving

the earth’s core,

might have been,

an easier score.

my results,

came to little more

than a warm, tingling

left hand.

which, according to our organiser –

a man with a shy smile

and watery eyes –

means i have blocked chakras,

which can be rebalanced,

through repeated tries.

watching Manchester peel away

from the side of my bus,

i realised, tonight,

that i don’t need my chakras

rebalancing;

i just need moments of kindness,

acceptance, and connection,

to make me feel alright.