Saturday, November 5, 2011


Not for what was left behind
30 years later, departure salty still
Nor for what I wish to come
Lo que(se)rá será
But for the tight
Between the two
I live at a wake
The lilies on my desk know this
Petals paper thin, crumpled
They breathe simultaneous beauty
And decay
Outside the rain
Burrows deep inside the earth
My grief works the same way
Tunnels dug each day
Alongside lymbic system, cardiovascular highways, digestive tracts
Alongside breath
I remain split
And folks with eagle eyes
And others with doe eyes
Offer hands, skin, as a way of unearthing a truth.

Originally Published in The Womanist - 2011

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