#YesAllWomen: Trust

What is it
that nearly ten years later
is starting to crack
and flow
like water pouring off our roof
when the ice dams broke?
You pull me toward you,
not to strike me,
but embracing me in greeting,
missing me
like the mountain that loved the bird.
My name is joy.

I remember
my head against a pool table
like it was yesterday,
and so I think
your hands at my collarbone
could mean no tomorrow.

I am strong, but you are stronger.
You cradle my head in your hands,
arching toward my lodestone.
You will lead my way.
Sound your horns! I have arrived,
exposed and triumphant.


This poem appears in my first book, Responsive Pleading.