Written by Luisa A. Igloria on Nov 08, 2022 12:00 am
~ after Ross Gay (Inciting Joy)
Come in— I baked cookies last night,
a swirl of toffee and chocolate that makes
each look like a two-toned planet. There's
coffee and a selection of tea, and shelves
of books that need dusting and rearranging.
In other words, you can sit with me while I
brace myself for the next delivery of bad
news. Or you can help me figure out
a new arrangement for the living
room furniture, where the cushions
are soft and thick enough to cover
my face when I feel like sobbing
or screaming. Enough light falls on
the monstera, but there's still a cozy
spot to read by the window in the evening.
Yes, I used to shut the door in your face
every time you came calling, but I read
an essay that said you like potlucks,
dancing, and bonfires—Unbelievable,
I thought at first; until I remembered
the night our neighbor invited us
to her home to meet an honest-
to-gosh shaman. I admit I went, hoping
perhaps he'd see clear through to my
wounded heart and give me some spell
or powerful talisman to right it. No such luck.
But someone lit a fire and we sat in a circle,
making messy cracker sandwiches of melted
chocolate and marshmallows. Soon, we
were telling stories of our lives from when
we arrived in this country, as well as from
the time before. Someone passed bowls
of soup around. At the end, he had each of us
lay a pebble or twig or flower in the middle
of a bandanna. No one had to explain anything;
everything just seemed to make sense.
I
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