April 1: Endow

April 1: Endow

April 1: Endow 150 150 Akharla Mova

Escalate your patience

until it is steadily humming

past an old age home

full of open-mouth chewers.

Chewing cud like cows

on a field with nothing to do all day,

and you aren’t pulling your knuckle hair out

like a chimp.

Elevate your passion

until it is buzzing

slightly beyond your fingertips,

like a carrot on a fishing line

in front of a horse

barely out of reach.

Just enough to reach for,

every day.

Breed your loves

until they turn into too many.

Until love spills out of you fiercely;

just a gentle squeeze and all your sap

is on the floor for everyone to stick to:

uninvolved flies, paperclips,

an ingenious earthworm.

Abbreviate your curses

until they are reserved for deaths

and betrayals, instead of words

and words and failed relationships.

Curses are failings only

personal gods should hear.

Endow your fingers

with a nimbleness that sews hugs to sighs,

knits kneecaps for sufferers,

turns a strangled tear into the full-body sob they were on the cliff of,

your hands know these things already;

this martyr is a trip away from being drenched in the weight of other people’s problems, but a hop over a puddle reflects my underbelly,

lets me see the growths on my own skin.