by Sophia Sherwood
Cream or sugar? Or
Both? You decide. It won’t matter
Once you stare down the center of the
It will not give you the
Answer. But it will bring you comfort.
The sand that buries
You does not care about your
Loneliness. But you will feel warmth beneath
The carpet of your childhood
Home reeks of mildew. But you will not
The page of that
Book you always meant to
Finish longs for
Your touch. Will you ever
Invite it out for coffee? Maybe it prefers
Tea. Will you ever know?
The bread you used to always bake
With your father is stale. But it will still taste
Just as it once did.
It does not matter, you
Go on ahead.
There are roots everywhere.
I see them, tangled and beaten
Beneath the basement of my
I see them beneath the very ground
You walk upon, as you leave
Behind everything old in exchange
For everything new.
I see them weaving and tightening
Around the old LGBT support home
I once went to, when I was young
And scared and didn’t know a thing about the world
I see them dragging and
clawing at the sleeves of your shirt,
Begging you to stay when you know
It would kill you.
Our paths may never cross, but
Your roots and my roots
And his roots and their roots and
Her roots are all
I wonder about the ways in which yours have shaped you,
Just as mine have shaped me.
Mouths sewn shut
So as to not breathe too deeply
To breathe too deep is to let
The fire in
And we all know how fire burns
But the warmth can be so sweet
Delicate, fragile, like a violet
In first spring’s awakening
A tender embrace, a kiss
The kiss singes like flame
Like a forest engulfed
Mouths sewn shut
But the thread is burnt away
We are gasping, breathing each other in
I bring you a bouquet of violets
But they wilt in the warmth of my hands
You say we are fire meets gasoline
I say we are flame meets flame
Only, I would never burn you, lover
I’ll sew my mouth up again just for you.