Bluesky

A bee caught in the raintries to sting its way through the glass window.

On the other side of the road,a man erases murals from the brick wall.

Outside a king’s palace, women in matching bubagathered around bottle gourds, placed inside buckets

of water. I watched the women recite nameswritten on the throne, I didn’t hear my name.

When my body has the right amount of sugar,my heart pulsates only to love songs.

I have ruled over cities that are not on maps,I have ruled over a kingdom of crickets

and woke up to the ticking songs of kettles,and sometimes to the mimicry of fledglings.

How noble that I can still spin yards of threadsinto a gift basket. I fixed my gaze on the giant glass wall

until the barrier thinned out. I sanitized my palmsand raised them in praise of the black stone in Makkah.

In this small town, seventeen death certificates are signedevery day, someone waits for an organ transplant,

it’ll be too late by sunset. I offer a song in exchange for this grief,I know that with a song, I’ll set my brain fog ablaze.

The wind clocks our aspirations inside its cold hands,until we are numb like a frozen ball of blood, on the tip of a knife.