Poetry
MATTER
Dec.16.2020
HUMAN
I used to think we created with our hands
But you have shown me we create with each other
I have made a pillow of your chest
You have made a necklace of my hair
I have made gloves of your fingers
You have made a blanket of my body
Your eyes became windows
My smile shone one thousand words
We found matter in these vessels
And turned them into homes
Sept.1.2020
And to entrap time is to covet a wild animal
Is to blink and miss
Wonder where her scurry carried
Is to think her docile and stubborn
To think her generous and thieve
To think her opportunity and barricade
Is to believe we mark folklore and famine
Rather than guest in her presence
Akin to moon tide and tree rings
Is to believe we are God
Is to believe we are god
Is to hiccup a garden from tufts of air
To run fingers through mint leaves and thyme bush
To kiss carrot tops and exfoliate with soil
To lean against the knowing tree
And fidget sundial out of bark
Is to perspire over even ground
Is to bring hoe to invisible roots
Is to forget to reach for the mango wiggling from tree top
Plump and learning to be patient
US
Jan.7.2020
And I still catch myself becoming you
Because loving you was having all of you
I took you in my heart and my hands and my arms and my chest and my legs and my heart
And your smell knew the tip of my nose
And your laugh leapt from my throat before it could leave yours
And your words were greeted by my ears’ eager embrace
And your curls made a crown on my head
So the day I stop loving you is the day you leave my body
Is the day I bark without you rolling your eyes
Is the day I cry without you whispering in my neck
Is the day I talk to God without begging Him for your soul
I’m afraid
You will always find a home in me
That your legs will take up space with no plans of departing
That when another man knocks, you will not open the door
So I will not open the door
I’m afraid
Because loving you is using all of me
Another River
Aug.14.2018
Everything has already been said
About the wink of sunlight on water claiming the surface
The gentle shove against the grey-turned-black stones
The collective sigh of water nymphs bathing in the sun
And yet we search for words each time we blink
Even though a river is a river
Our eyes convince us it is their first time
Even though everything has already been said
Each riverside coos for attention
So we smile and write poems about how beautiful they are
Laundry
Sept.7.2018
I have a heavy load of laundry
Idling in my hamper far too long
Vague memories accompany its stains
I fear
If I wait too long, they may never wash out
But justify the queue by what must be cleaned first
While I cuddle the mound at night
Pretend its old smell is comfort
Imagine what could have been if hot sauce had missed the knee
If salt did not settle in its pockets
I wake with creases on my cheek
Realize comfort should not have a stench
Tell myself it is time to toss it in
Tell myself it is time
Tell myself I need time
I find whites, already bleached
Create blotches with no business being there
Dump it into the suds
Pat myself on the back for a job well done
And call it progress
But when the day runs out
I glide my legs between my sheets
And find the bundle has already made itself at home
A cozier fit than last night
When I wake with the familiar arm swaddle
The load is heavier than before