For Stacy at Harris, YMCA
Charlotte, North Carolina
Stacy teaches as if this studio—its
mirrored walls and languidly revolving
ceiling fans—is the only place
on earth. Stillness, she says, is something
we cannot truly know in this life.
I visualize my heart. Small fist of muscle
striated with elegant, flowing tributaries
and secret chambers. My lungs. Gelatinous
and introspective as they furl and unfurl
like jellies trapped inside the aquarium.
I rise into Crescent Moon. Warrior Two.
Peaceful. My blood coils—spooling
like a Möbius strip and as succulent
as camelia blossoms in spring. The room
billows with Falling Stars.
Appears in Just the Girls: A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies; A Drift of Honeybees (The Poetry Box, 2020)
