The Poet X

by Elizabeth Acevedo

It’s not any one thing that makes me wonder about the capital G.O.D. About a holy trinity that don’t include the mother.

She’s also little—like, for real petite— but carries herself big, know what I mean? Like she’s used to shouldering her way through any assumptions made about her.

Just because your father’s present doesn’t mean he isn’t absent.

Sometimes the best way to love someone is to let them go.”

And I think about all the things we could be if we were never told our bodies were not built for them.