if we’re lucky,
the walls we build as children
come back down
if we’re lucky,
our teenage distance
thaws
if we’re lucky,
we build a life
so ultraviolet
we forget about
those tiny adults we had to
become
to keep our homes from
collapsing in on us
if we’re lucky,
we grow up so steady
in our own light
that we do not dwell on
the nights we spent being
our own mothers,
sweeping up glass
and eggshells
if we’re lucky,
we eclipse our origin story
and do not remember
the day it slips
off our broad,
evergreen shoulders
