Grace – Alexandra Morris

Grace
 
I think in ten-point turns,
walk past myself,
blow steam on the windows
without drawing pictures.
 
You say I shouldn’t worry
because anyone who can spell
onomatopoeia
is destined for great things.
 
I think in lines and boxes.
You think in clouds and curlicues.
epiphanies and animation.
 
You say
“I was born like this,
look.”
And cross your eyes.
One fat curl unwinds itself
onto your cheek.
 
Puddles are happy,
you say.
Happy friend puddles.
Because they always land
in groups
you say
then grab my arm
and pull us into one
together.
 

by Alexandra Morris
Karamu High School