Stages
Storm after storm, I remain.
At two
life went left
At eight
right
At eighteen
coin eyes everywhere
down…
up
all directions at once
—
the seamstress gone
the world split its ribs
and me…
too young to sew
—
five years in the cold-dark
air-pocket for one
—
the ocean wasn’t blue
it was teeth
memory
shame
nights that ended
when the flood begged mercy
teeth clenched on its own tail
—
twenty-eight
over there
—
where ghosts finally
pulled up chairs
I learned to pour them
a drink
—
I built
then burned
the blueprint
grew hands back
from cinders
—
I loved
like it would hollow me
and asked anyway
—
I carved sand
called it sacred
called it home
danced
when it rained
—
I built a sandcastle
from what collapsed
brushed away
footprints on the beach
—
Let it rain.
I’m still dancing.
- UpsilonA