this day
I wasn’t in my body anymore.
spineless in the reflection
of widespread windows
barriers of glass doors
closing, needles and
beeping and jumpsuits
eyes and warm sheets.
I met many eyes
eyes made of sun
always there to see mine fog
they watered often
doors sliding and
water squeezing
coughing out air I couldn’t keep in
liver failing of no pain
a mute peace I entered
I remembered boardwalks and
grass but not the type of grass you stomp on
but you float and
the rush of griot and collard greens seeped
in my nostrils and the warmth of shea butter
I thought of bricked steps and
echoes of laughs by the river and
guitar chords and penny loafers in reverse
all the joys are erasing
didn’t know how to say goodbye
maybe it wasn’t time
just enough movement
of my fingertips to speak
all I could read were hearted emojis
scrolled and scrolled and scrolled and
forgot what a tight sealed hug felt like
this was enough, now.
I wanted this body to come back
this body I hated
ripped up and shredded with my words
the body I wasn’t sure would fight for me
I didn’t make myself proud yet
I hated the fiery burned nostril through
this tube and the tiredness of each hard breath
out and in, out and in, sudden movement
and coughing out of air and those eyes would come back
they would always come back
I told them who I was
when joy made sense to reach after
the first time I felt free
walking across the bridge under the sun
above the water, water I missed
missing pencil ridges and lettered portraits
I told those eyes I never fell in love before
I let go of my phone
I wanted to stop.
every night I heard gospel
fist up, shaking
caressing the soul of my fingers
afraid to sleep out my lungs
my body hugged me just before 1am
let me back in.
Click here to read Serina Gousby on the origin of the poem.
Image: by Stefano Pollio, licensed under CC 2.0.
Latest posts by Serina Gousby (see all)
- valentines day - February 14, 2022
This is a beautiful poem and breathtaking I love it.
Nerve-wrackingly gorgeous. Thank you.