others are snappable

still the skin reveals nothing (everything) (unsupple) (here)

diaspora rooted                      in new light / antiparadise

we can grow

anywhere

when I was small

before we lost all our homes,
we dug in the earth, put seeds, they grew, midborough off the D train

without nostalgia i claim our wildness
our desire to find the astonishing: sprout, needle
stink and cling of earth, satisfaction of sweat

compass point needle iron ironwork etc.

Poetry by Christina Olivares