When I was growing up there were crane flowers (birds of paradise) in a bundle in front of my house
I remember my step father
I remember when the glass table split like a ghost in the backyard
I remember a Miscarriage and a thief (me)
I remember dry humping a pillow
silent guilty pleasure
I remember me young
I remember me now
a body so high with politics and grief, it requires a daily newspaper.
mirror like bodies carry mimicry of life
black bodies turn into black voids
I had a dream last night of when I met the state.
a crane flower so pure
climbed out of my throat, dug its roots on my tongue and shook their hand with its bud.
hard lived teeth
I bite on the stem before they have the chance to yank it out.
I remember the Crane Flower
bobbing back and forth with enthusiasm in front of my house
I wonder if it was warning me or if it was giddy with delight.