By Misti Rainwater-Lites
Everything wills it.
I will step out of this box
like I’m going for a drink of water.
The heavy clothes will puddle at my feet.
The fresh air will burn my lungs
the blazing blue sky will deafen me
the waiting earth will welcome me
with a mother mouth, deep and ravaged mother heart
accepting the sorry gift of me
as if I were made
of shinier stuff.