My library has 17 books:
1.
I learned how to lift
21 picture books at the
age of three onto my
lap so their weight
held me down
from the sky.

2.
But I could not yet read
so my mind instead invested in pictures as
guides like
a path dug in the
sand for waves to
ride and squirm
and swell within.

3.
My cat has piercing
mustard-yellow eyes and
breathes like he is
always frightened but
I think he knows
everything: those yellow
eyes stare through me
as I sleep.




4.
I woke up from my
surgery only seeing and feeling pink blurs
and then my parents, sitting
together for the first time
since they
separated and we
grew into 2 partial
families.

5.
And suddenly I
was falling and I felt
my hip catch and my
arms burned (so I could
smell burnt skin, or
maybe rubber) and I hit
blue and that is when
I became afraid.

6.
I woke up from a
warm dream and my
dad was weighing down
the end of the bed, making
it dip as if it were bowing
to an end
and I felt his
sadness and loss and
wished I hadn't
woken up.

7.
Gold reminds me of
million dollar smiles
and birds in endless flight and
the smell of sweet musky
perfume but I noticed
that it has a tendency
to lose its shine.










8.
Like a sparrow dipping
to touch wet ground
my heart fluttered
as I reached in and
stole his heart through
soft lips and whispered
words until I eventually
had to fly away, arrows
pinned through my wings.

9.
Singing pipes would push
melodies up into the lofty ceiling,
spelling long Monday afternoons
and lengthy organ music
and soon I could hum my
dad's muse as if it
belonged to me, too.

10.
Bird calls sound different
from state-to-state, perhaps
because the climate changes
slightly and the weather
plays tricks on us. Or maybe I
finally am listening.

11.
That summer I felt
lost because I was searching
for a place to belong
to for the next four years
of my life and
nothing felt right as if
my heart was open
to the world, attracting
bees and their soft buzz of
loneliness.

12.
Most people grow upwards
-heads brushing the sky-
but I grew into
myself, slouched over
as if reading the
ground below.




13.
I don't just jump to
conclusions. I sprint.

14.
I like to stare at
myself in the mirror because with
each new day, new freckles
appear like splatters of
dried paint:
my body is
learning how to adapt
to the strength of
the sun.

15.
I bit down on the
Tootsie Pop in time with
the buzzing of the fire-needle
as it outlined my inborn
birthmark, making it
a black ghost.

16.
Finally she was better
and I don't mean
healthy, but at least
her ribs had filled in
like a coloring book, filled
until the black harsh lines could
not be seen.

17.
I recovered too, but I was left
with dust to coat the
edges of a worn
picture frame and
the empty feeling of
space in between two
hands that are meant to
be together.