by Afaa Michael Weaver
It was as hot as what
stars must feel like
so far away, certainly
there, inside me.
I took it in my hands,
put it where it should be
in the wet softness
where my heart sits.
Ugly things came
to threaten me, to say
I had lost the last lock
holding me to truth.
That was not true,
because old truths
were now lies, I saw
families as human.
I found the goodness
in what is not perfect,
and a new perfection
in what is not good.
This happened in
a new home twelve
time zones away, as
the world collapsed.
in a clitter clatter
like a busy kitchen,
the universe forming
now inside all of me.
Last updated November 12, 2022