Hell, I know my superpower! I stare back at the solo sun & think, I could take you

down, right to the cool core if my mother asked it of me, or if I thought my father would

write it in his will, or on a simple day. See, I’m less scared of spiders than of people flying

out the window of this world’s womb web & never getting to reach for them, to tell them, Save your last look for a better tragedy.

Fighting, scar-sweet in scarlet, measured like a middle finger, might not be a love song in your neighborhood but I’m a country bitch.

The light catches dusk often in the summertime, even when the heat is noon high, & the clouds peck pails and parade like elephants.

I can sense it, when I daydream—the adrenaline at oblivion, the raining obstacles of horizons

& homes

& here.

Humanity, sometimes I wind for miles, for weeks, for generations, asking to accept the end for others cus I believe in better worlds.

I’ve begged ancestors, Maybe I don’t need wings, to save a country, but that’s not my power. I’m someone’s child,

still staring at the star-sun wishing it never be my earth. I’m human, after all.