i.
i abhor the time it takes anything to develop.
the film of this lifetime, the heart of everything.
my pride captures me with an old kodak.
i don't recognise the woman in the lens--
she's yesterday, and i am one foot in tomorrow today.
ii.
i am the spark, and the roar,
and the culminant star,
not the quiet, not the tame.
my beloved calls me the sun, personified:
too great to settle (down, for less).
iii.
yea, the things i desire are ordinary:
don't cage me don't cage me don't cage me,
see me for me for me for me,
run with me, barefoot, through the loam, and the silt,
with the atlantic at our calves,
the tradewinds through our hair, and in our sails,
wild wild wild like the heartbeat in my chest.
iv.
falling in love has always looked like teeth and bones,
and unravelling in ways you can only come undone
when you are seen. and i mean seen.
i look in the mirror and cradle every version of me
as a mother, a sister, a firstborn, gently.
v.
even the little things consume me like a summer bonfire.
i burn i burn i burn and i rise again and again and again.
no one has ever looked back for me because i have
always been the one at the helm, hands gripping too tightly.
no one has ever looked back for me because i have
always been the one to rescue myself.
vi.
softness is a foreigner who overstayed.
softness is the hands on the small of my back.
softness is the phone calls, and the texts,
and the people who show up for someone who is
still just a girl, who still catches herself thinking
about how to disappear without a ripple in the lake.