subterranean
dreaming grace roots
we feast from (:)
calls your hand tender
turned toward the margins
in which we
stir ancestral / souls
against hegemonic
nerves
with what found & forged love ,
if in alignment our /
bodies defy
all the social could expect
run seams im/possibility
& all the flesh we’ve
fought for
& the ways of being &
knowing & fucking
on history’s tide
receding , sure tears,
façades
horror , food ,
umber busy pulling
out of the ordinary, demands
, antinomies, borders
in the composition of hands
re:visioning
lay ripe heads as the sun
thins
dizzy scent’s course
to place cupped on the chest
for a kinetics of otherwise
Copyright © 2022 by Nat Raha. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on June 23, 2022, by the Academy of American Poets.