heavy

"wholeness is no trifling matter. a lot of weight when you're well."

i love my weight. these
folds singspill over —

well, ain’t love heavy?

ain’t love something you
can hold with both hands and know?
ain’t it a tender thing?

my weight loves my lonely,
gives her a dress made of gold
keeps her safe and sings,

you do not have to
rush, or run, in some
ill-fitting shadow.

the body is a
prayer. in Southern heat, the
shape of a Heaven

felt by the Sun. some
soft vessel made of water.
Can God still be good

enough for me to see
My loved ones say grace? Laugh
loud enough to reach

Heaven? Or, this: My
heavy body, holding love for
versions of me that sing —

Ain’t it a tender thing?
Radiant, Heavy, and Green
is the body that gives,

that knows, that holds its
shape around the weight of this

Heaven of red clay.

Notes:

1. subtitle: toni cade bambara, the salt eaters
2. quote: claire schwartz, lecture on loneliness.
3. image credit