the delicious

the delicious shifts as i become adult
it was the black of vibrant womb
it was running downhill with no fear of injury
it was curse words sharp off my tongue
it was sneaking into the school attic to kiss a big-lipped boy
it was the dinner table, making my sisters spit with my exquisitely timed moment – laughter, then my innocent face

it was dancing in a warm pink-lit room spun by pills that reminded me of happiness when i had forgotten
it was a deep lake in the bottom of summer
it was justice held in our hands as we shouted assata’s words and wept together in our shared dreams
it was the moments on the hardwood floor when no one was watching, and, even briefly, nothing was missing

but now
it is the soft suckle of my next idea on my lip,
my next love spilling up from the cave of self under my heart
the sounds of the babies telling me who they are
how i feel when my beloveds grow
the drifting weight of sleep pulling night over my eyes
my own shapeshifting flesh grasped whole in my hands
a life lined up for my pleasure

it is the beginning, the mid-morning, the afternoon, the end of, the dreams of
a well-loved day