in my sleep

i'd seen them multiple times before they were born, long before we knew that she could have children again. they'd be riding a horse down jasmine street, alongside my mother. it was always after dark, their bodies illuminated by the street lights. my mother would guide the horse down to the end of the street and stop in front of the stop sign. i couldn't call out to them loud enough for them to ever see me; even in my dreams my voice was silenced. i had to wait several years, but i always knew, even when my mother didn't.

making scents

and yes, we've had a few drinks, to remember all the things that we have selfishly done, so cautiously done.

and we regress and progress, to that nights we undressed all of our desires and regrets;
on top of all else you can detect, on our skin's drunken scent.
we arrive and we leave, done away with all grief of our newest and worst, actions never rehearsed. 
so yes, we've had plenty to drink, so to remember all the things that we have selfishly done, so lovingly done. to each other and more, and to those we claimed to adore.

they say

be careful, they say.

you don't want to make them uncomfortable. 

don't be vulgar or angry, or even too passionate.

differences scare people, so maybe blend in. 

maybe focus on only one cause. 

joining or blending everything confuses people. 

you can't give all of your attention to everything. 

what does intersectional even mean, anyway? 

you have it great, you should be more grateful. 

we all matter.

you should be angry about genital mutilation. 

protesting never helped anyone. 

stop offending people.

i can't fight for everyone that's down. 

i have a family to worry about and feed. 

yes, i heard you.

glass

i start making my way to bed, intending to lay under the moon's reflection. i notice her face on the broken glass that i have yet to pick up. it has been laying there against the hardwood floor as i strategically tip toe my way onto bed. there must be over a hundred tiny, broken pieces all spread out, all waiting to prick my skin sooner than later. i notice how they shine, as if the moon alone is making them brighter to catch my attention.

i see them, dammit.

still, i  leave them there for yet another sleepless night.