I have lived anxiously
in the land of my soft-spoken mothers
the land that would precipitate her seasons on me
until my body would be gloriously full
of fallen leaves and dried starfish
I was pulled from the ground
like a helpless something whether it was my choice
I cannot tell
whether it was my fault
is beyond doubt                                                                                                                                          [12102013]

Originally published in White Wall Review 40 (2016)