1. practice piano
2. take my medication
3. rebuild this computer back up to where it was
4. finish these three assignments
5. remember my people, my ancestors, and my homeland.
stick this landing.
perfect ten. or close enough.
hands up in the air and smiling even with metaphorical snapped wrists and a broken ankle. look to the stars…
mistakes were made.
maybe it’s time to rise
time to open eyes
time to unshutter windows
a time for seconds, thirds, and infinitely more’th-tries.
i am suspicious of recurrences
of suddenness
(of absences)
of just enoughs
surrounded by too muchness-es
(and dour, coldemptypromises)
so when the tide is finally drenched with smiles
i think perhaps my scars will heal
(heart, hips, hands, fingers, thighs…)
i wish to ride my fear into my sea
and yes, my friend
i’d say this salty honest-ness;
this tricky-fun wordspun homecoming mist
is a happy new taste for me.
