I Convinced Myself I Could Dance

in the mirror of our shared room. I saw 

a tweet that said listen to Solange & get in your body

so I tried, in the buff under buffered light obscured

by our white window blinds. I closed my eyes, 

let that memory of red on submittable, that memory 

of Tron telling me it’s silly to think of a car 

piling dirt on our faces with its speeding wheels 

as “creepy” & telling me that I’m hysterical, 

that memory of scrolling myself into retina pain, 

release in the flailing arms and hairy pits of me. I am a 

jungle, only bold enough to be wild 

when I have 10 minutes with wooden floors, 

four walls, & baby, doing homework in

another room. I couldn’t tell you how much 

I lost, but it had to be less after my hips 

shook loose cries I’ve been keeping 

locked in. She saved me. I save 

years of my life every time my ego dies. 

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Cover photo by Bernadetta Watts