THESE SOFT THINGS
i am open
so taste me
of my flesh
it was so
long ago that
i was walking
streets made of
i am too filled
to walk anywhere
with my blissful
legs, my bruised
these soft things
I dig so deep my hands disappear
into themselves and become birds
after my own heart.
The outside grass is wet and teeming
with life that stays alive despite
men and police and the weight of
living. I still believe in feeling every
awful thing in existence. I dance
although my muscles protest movement.
I say it’s okay to not wake up
sometimes. Even when there are
five moons in the sky and the words
written on signs change every
time you look away. You know
where you are and you can stay there.
You can shut your eyes and shake
your head back and forth until you
come to in some beautiful rainstorm
that will always be waiting for you.
Joshua Jennifer Espinoza is a trans woman poet living in California. Her work has been featured in The Offing, The Feminist Wire, PEN America, and elsewhere. Her first book of poems i’m alive / it hurts / i love it was released through boost house in 2014, and her second collection THERE SHOULD BE FLOWERS was published by Civil Coping Mechanisms in 2016.