This bleeding poem that holds feet

May her fears fetch starlights in the gloom

Feed every shadow under the breast of God

Before his scorching sun awakes us tomorrow


These hungry silences

Breathing in my chest

May their nights’ pillow all the weights we ferry

Sing them into their new homes as we repent

For loving yet another man’s misery


These hungry hands

That touch the raven

May they keep space for the sunlight too, for

Remembering to keep their word and exonerate the frost

For loving another man’s man again, and

Their children who will clutch our torches


This poem that is happening

Shhh! let her stay between us

For the fear of their’ headaches

For goodness, you must know

Is a commodity our modernity dearth


These flowers standing in my wounds

May their fears fetch seeds of courage

After every eye has achieved weeping tonight


I know better

Than to reduce a man

For what he brings to the table

But if it is not enough, I will stare him in the eyes


My heart is too little, too abundant it fountains

I have squeezed my all  in the luggage of my poems

Some still fatherless

Some are still naked without a mattress to rest on

They will grow to know my feet is not rooted anywhere

And all my bones that remain

May they have a flesh to claim.