Poetry

It fills my body 
Fills my body so full of light 
I am almost bursting at the seams with 
Joy so infectious I cannot avoid it if I wanted to

I can’t bear
To draw self-portraits of myself.
I don’t trust mirrors
And I don’t trust my eyes.

Aethiopia, Abyssinia, Askum, Kush
All names thrown around by history books, by scholars 
Attempting to intellectualize, rationalize, standardize 
the place my parents call home 

I blame you for everything –
I blame myself for even more.
I’m dumb and stubborn; you, careless.

His scent envelops
swallowing all that is mine 

the aftermath of living—
have we ever thought about it?

When Little Boy spent summers at the sea

“In through your nose, out through your mouth
in through your nose, out through your mouth”

Out damned spot

I miss pre-pandemic me