Other Words for Home

Sometimes I feel like you have to say things out loud

just to remind the universe

that you’re still thinking about them.

I wonder if it is exhausting

to be a tree.

To lose something,

year after year,

only to trust that it will

someday grow back.

I have learned Americans love to say you know and then

stop

talking.

They force you to fill in the hard parts,

the things they are not brave enough to say.

I glance out the window

at the trees that are

shedding their final leaves.

I wonder if it is exhausting

to be a tree.

To lose something,

year after year,

only to trust that it will

someday grow back.

America,

like every other place in the world,

is a place where some people sleep

and some people

other people

dream.

I want women like Aunt Michelle
to understand
that it is not only women who look like them
who are free
who think
and care about other women.
That it is possible for two things to look
similar
but be completely different.

She must feel it too because I sense the recognition
in the way her body curls around mine
like it isn’t only holding me,
but it’s also holding
a memory.

I wonder if it is exhausting
to be a tree.
To lose something,
year after year,
only to trust that it will
someday grow back.

Americans love labels.
They help them know what to expect.
Sometimes, though,
I think labels stop them from
thinking.

a mama’s ability to say something
without actually saying it.