Swimming

Sitting in a pool of blessings,

frigid from every obstacle I befriended,

every bee I let sting the landmarks on my skin,

the birthmarks with their birthright

to shine in the constellation of a melanin milk way,

I thank the universe for the chill on my spine

keeping me aware of all the beauty I have now that I used to cry for.

And I ask the universe that if I ever question whether destruction always precedes creation

that it can hold a mirror up to my face,

show me the cracks they call smile lines

and remind me that the shell I am in

has faced many lifetimes of crumbled empires,

that were rebuilt with willpower and a little sleep

and this one is no different.