Has anyone managed to make a world.
After race, we turn to genetics, return
after to the archives for new history. Who
then determines when we’re from. Roots,
we learn to speak of them. The baobabs do
not speak of themselves. We hear wind flee
through their leaves. We see our minds eat
through bark as ants warring with termites.
Has anyone managed to make themselves.
We wonder our excitement when we watch
only our wide teeth speak, only our large lips,
anything so small as proof that we could not
hold one another. We do maybe. We did not.



Photo by Gerhard Reus on Unsplash