Of Losing More

Come back, with thicker hair and thicker skin,
freer in the deeper part of summer. 
Here we have birdsong, bugsong, pine needles
like long fingernails. All the ice is ash. 

Do not mourn yourself before you are missed. 
I will not say I miss you. But you must
miss the underground train, the indigo 
glow from your window back home, and how the

debris sparkles on the street like sequins 
on a black dress. Child of July, queen of 
Crown Heights, you know all of death is drowning. 
And again your mind is outside itself, 

judging itself, begrudging itself such
thoughts. Are you seasick on this land? Then find
the sea. And firework your way through your own
private night. If all is lost, lose your fear...

Reviews

[Glen Yumang Manese]

I like the positive... nature of this write... as a reader the voice presents itself in the lines... the beginning catches you and the 2nd &3rd stanza adds to this and the end stanza captures the first line:

Come back, with thicker hair and thicker skin,
If all is lost, lose your fear...

[Libby McKeown]

I loved this from the first line, to the very last one. It reminds me of someone I know, to myself, to someone else, and like how it touches the constellation of self, all the points of a picture that feels wholesomely incomplete. That is a very fine gift you have there. My only suggestion would be to lose "private" as I think it is possibly redundant. Other than that, this is solid work.