Time is a Mother

by Ocean Vuong

How else do we return to ourselves but to fold The page so it points to the good part

I think I’m doing it right now finally maybe I’m winning even if it just looks like my fingers are shaking

Maybe he saw that a small thing moving through a large thing is more like a bird in a cage than a word in the mouth.

Because what I did with my one short beautiful life— was lose it on a winning streak.

Sara I messed up I’m trying to stay clean but my hands are monsters who believe in magic