after Shelley Puhak

that the toilet never choked

and the balloons never fled.

that I always found the last piece of the puzzle. 

that I caught the train by its collar

and parking had the ease 

of sliding into a dress. 

that I witnessed small births,

smaller breaths: the yarrow and snapdragon, hibiscus blooming 

at the stroke of spring. 

that I wrote more.

that I wrote fearlessly.

that I hid myself in a poem 

and returned as a good human. 

that I conquered every loss

and buried every war. 

that I woke to a body without pain. 

that no one flinched at my touch, and I loved 

with all the doors unlocked.