Taking the Sunlight with Me

It’s not a coincidence that the road leading you away from home is all worn out.

If my place in this world had rivers maybe this poem would’ve ran smooth

But it’s a difficult poem signed by the difficult soul 

that inhabits my dry skin and soft bones.

I think the mountains are indented in the shape of my steps.

Now when it rains, they fill with water.

Now there are many moons on the mountains.

I think that sandstorms have carved a prayer into my hands.

Now they are sharp like stone,

Now whenever I touch the page it bleeds.

Now memories are the sun, I see them with my eyes closed.

Now trees run away from me.

Now weeds grow over my feet,

and climb up across the map of me. 

I think my younger-self finally made her dream,

Now I’m all true as I’ve always wanted to be. 

Now I think of you and I don’t shed a tear.

Now I’m ok, all good, and right where I should be.

Now the wind blows and I hear my name sung in the storm.

Oryxes get their name from the greek word for pickaxe,

Oryxes are known to dig holes in the sand.

And I understand,

It takes an Oryx to understand an Oryx.

I think they also want to run deep into the earth.

Although an Oryx fears no one, her horns could stab a lion.

They were never meant to be soft and delicate.

But you wouldn’t guess it,

The poets summed them up, big dark eyes, an angel in the desert, beauty’s metaphor.

I used to look up my name’s meaning

To try to make sense of it all.

Now I know, I dig deep, and run into the earth, taking sunlight with me.