the afternoon shine
marked the time
for hide and seek.
the breeze tapped my shoulder,
but i waved my pages back:
women in cameroon
are left
when they can't have children,
and i need to know that.
the sun tickled my face, but
half of high achieving women
are childless by midlife.
that's scary, you know.
the floating flowers
giggled on their way,
most of teenage pregnancies
are planned, too,
because it's the only
opportunity
for meaning in their lives.
did i ever think--
fine. just for a minute,
because
social constructs around race
make transnational adoptions
tricky
and i should know
and i should think--
i lifted my eyes,
the sun ducked behind you,
and you became a silhouette,
an outline,
a shadow of the lines
and crumpled paper
and pounded desks.
you let it peak through, though.
it exploded behind you,
and its vague blob
of light
dispersed
into concentrated lines
racing to every corner
of the sky and roof.
i had to squint
and i couldn't even see the source.
but you saw it all,
didn't you?
you obscured and refracted
its rays,
slowed them
through prisms,
so you could go faster.
never mind you and your maker,
i want to meet mine!
I jump up your walls
smudging my feet against
your concrete,
chimneying in between
your crooks,
throwing myself into a dinosaur
jump in between your gap,
scratching my hands
on your brutal
rigids,
scrambling higher and higher
until my books are dots
and the cars are motion
and the faces lose eyes,
and i'm breathless now
but the only way is up,
because
going down is scary and
the sun's still hiding,
and i'm still seeking
and you're still obstructing,
so climb higher
my dearest
until there's no more.
DLS
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