The Unbearable Weight of Staying (Excerpt)
I don’t know when love became elusive
What I know, is that no one I know has it.
My father's arms around my mother's neck,
Fruit too ripe to eat, a door half way open.
When your name is a just a hand I can never hold,
everything I have ever believed in, becomes magic.
I think of lovers as trees, growing to and
from one another, searching for the same light.
My mother's laughter in a dark room,
a photograph greying under my touch.
. . .
- Warsan Shire