Back in January I thought lungs were just useless appendages
doing the wrong job and failing at it miserably til I learned
they were also a metaphor for flight.
Before I die, I want to teach someone else the same lesson-
dissect all the parts of their bodies they hate the most
and give them twice as many reasons to love what’s lying under the scalpel.
Back in March I learned the word home is just that: a word,
that for some people means a house, and for others is a person.
That someone else’s welcome mat could actually be
another person’s body, not just resting on actual front steps.
And the first drunk text I ever received
made me reevaluate the people I thought were closest to me,
because sometimes language is just language,
and other times the only screaming you can hear
is quiet as a tidal wave inside a loved one’s belly.
When the last x-ray I ever got came back glowing yellow
in all the wrong places, I realized that sex doesn’t have to be scary
if your partner’s looking inside all the right spaces.
Back in September, all the stained glass windows
inside every church I didn’t attend were a reminder of how
some people love the worst parts of others
because they actually shine the brightest.