When she came to me,
I pretended to sleep

My brother and I had tried to go to the People of Color meditation
but the monk had shut the door
Lateness has wings

She visited again
I missed her
So I wrote to her and pushed it through the drywall

Bits of brick newly littered the fireplace when I came home, a reply?

I shut my door
willing to smolder with sage
and sew small dolls to carry my new hope

But, I should know better.

I’ve touched the kingdom
and Bliss, like a missed appointment,
dangles its promise to those shut out