Once

we were warriors.

We mined
all the parts
of our lives

we deemed inadequate
for excavating

cutting and pasting
ourselves.

Perfecting.
Levelling.
Proving.

Master-minding.

Now
we know differently.

Now we KNOW,
we are poetry dancing

and poetry contains everything.

we are Grace,
shapeshifting.

NOW
we anoint
everything,

we know
all of us is holy.

We are light AND
the shadow cast by it

We are sacred mess.

Sublime, perfect
process.

*

I am.
this body.

and I am
your body

I am cosmic
I am human

I am individual
and I am union.

the end of suffering
is not benign perfection

the end of suffering
is forgiveness – laughter –

at my own
fumbling humanity

there is such
exquisite beauty

in all of me.

*

don’t you see?

You were never
an apology.

*

Galaxies
alight

in your eyes
no matter

the wars you wage

the places you stay
stuck

the angles of you

the plain exhaustion
at your own imperfection

the ways you misattune
to those you love

the way no one seems to hold you
in quite the way you want

you
have never been
an apology.

your heart is vast enough
to dance

with asteroids
and stars.

you are full
weightless-gravity

cosmic, yes

but that
has never been
separate, higher medicine

than the magnificence
of your beautiful
bumbling

humanity.