For what has happened
has extended my vision
of the realm of possibility
Apocalyptic calm
The loving and the lonely
The able and the anxious

My unknowing is a vessel
A container, a stretching womb
Two feet flipped upside down
At night I shift until I’m shaped

Things can be both impossible
and shockingly real
If imagination stays fiction,
But soothes my heart for
this time held still,
Then please

Let me waste my hours with
fake imagery
With the sparks of colour
I see when I shut my eyelids
Let me dream what my
ancestors wouldn’t dare to
Take shape as the animal of
a long lineage of practicality

If not always care, then what?
Slowing down is thawing, is
My ability to survive tells me
I’m stronger than I think
To trust and to strip down
in an act of love and truth

UN/CONDITIONING IS UN/
LEARNING IS UN/SETTLING
IS UN/FORMING

I’m sore from trying
To fit and fight the frame
My second-generation ignorance
My Western freedom
of choice

The aesthetic of this
The abstraction of me
It’s my privilege to present
the non-literal
To accept the offer to speak
in printed colour

I’ve lived many lives and
I’m losing track of it
My children soon unfolding
And this:
Our precious heirloom