there is something to be learned in Stillness.
in the way the Body can relearn itself.
stumble back into itself.
exhale Home into places called Exile once.
to know the Body as a thing always becoming,
to make skin a talisman.
to say i am a thing people have fought for,
to imagine an ancestor's last words: a prayer for me
my Stillness be Resistance.
i swear to pull the Light out of my chest.
let a prayer slip out of me,
call for cemented lungs, petrified with Praise.
let every breath that passes over my lips be a Psalm in the dark,
and every word that splits my tongue be a Proverb,
a deliverance of Light.
and all this be done with an unmoving Body,
caught in the lesson of Worship.
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