When she reads about this moment

When she reads about this moment,
it will all make sense
The shifting and shaking.
How the actual earthquake of 2020
shook up our entire home –
as if a global pandemic was
just an appetizer for the change coming.

When she reads about this moment,
the one where I fly south to
write with women I don’t know,
she will understand how I
couldn’t have done this before.
How the world had to turn in on itself,
Show it’s guts inside out while also
hiding behind a mask – in order for us
all to see that we were the quicksand.
We were the mud and the drowning.
And finding air was suddenly the only goal.

When she reads about this moment,
she will see how it all built upon itself.
How the hours locked inside, remembering
how to write poems led to the total
eclipsed realization that more poems
would only come if I woke up.
Found my bright eyes.

Set a new alarm for a new morning.
Stopped snoozing my holy desires.