Truth

Afaa Michael Weaver

It was as hot as what

stars must feel like

so far away, certainly

there, inside me.

I took it in my hands,

put it where it should be

in the wet softness

where my heart sits.

Ugly things came

to threaten me, to say

I had lost the last lock

holding me to truth.

That was not true,

because old truths

were now lies, I saw

families as human.

I found the goodness

in what is not perfect,

and a new perfection

in what is not good.

This happened in

a new home twelve

time zones away, as

the world collapsed.

in a clitter clatter

like a busy kitchen,

the universe forming

now inside all of me.