I am 28 the age of ripe eggs in my ovaries

The age of saying I am proud of you sweet one over and over again until I am 10 again and I

believe it

Everyone says sit still

They say plant your toes in the shoes of a man and let him be your anchor

My house slippers are soft and fuzzy

and black and all mine

Just last year I cut the ends of my relaxed hair and let my thick fro grow wild

I licked the brown hues of joy’s elbows

I cried from laughter until snot graced my chin

I have a rack in my spice cabinet with tumeric and paprika and orange curry spice

I eat cereal for dinner most days

I am 28 and my mom wants grandchildren to cradle but instead I wrap myself in a blanket and

rock gently to sleep