I want to catch minnows
in the tender trap of my palms.
I want to make a river
of my body, warmed trepidation—
clumsy reverence, a wisher
and a walker of ponds.
I want the minnows to feel safe
in my river body, and I want
to be the minnows
weaving and waiting,
and safe in my river body.
I want to hold myself like this river
holds me— like cloudy agate,
aggregate hidden
in the darkest parts of the bed.
Welcome to my riverbed body.
Welcome to my bone home.
I will love you like I love
these minnows—
like a fear embodied, burned
bright and bold by a golden sun.
I will love you like the sun grows
right between your eyes,
and you will be me
embodied again.
And again, we will multiply—
all gall and veined anthem,
and we will be the minnows still.