In Her Skin

she draws memories in melodies with her eyes. she deceives the moon with the stars, backspace, and the sun back spaces to lengthen her daylights of joy and shorten her nights of sadness. the direction of her gravity is twisted, she levitates when others fall. she is my Great grandmother's grimoire filled with magic and spells there are explosions in her tongue when she smiles she laughs the splendor of her grins teleports to thousands of souls on her palms It's as if God is dancing in her bones. She is not a glass half full or half empty. She dreams in Numbers. She is heaven and hell cohabiting together in your chest. She is the gaps between the stitches of wounds. She's not what lies underneath your scabs. She's a womxn, not scorned. Poetic Rea