RUMINATE

by Yohana Girma Gebre

My reflection that is tilted and leaning

And slightly off

My reflection whose hair is an untamable lioness that turns house cat when she chooses

My reflection whose eyes turn to glazed crystals through running water and carried our bags

My reflection whose arms are always reaching

And clasping a broken olive branch

My reflection whose legs dig into the ground, shuffling mountains with every step

My reflection whose hips sway starts the wind that kisses your cheek

My reflection that seems distance, imprison, within the black framed looking glass

that will soon shatter and turn the world into pixie dust

My reflection that lurks in the shadow, biding time, until she can unleash an army of her words

With serrated persistence that will carve a new olive branch

And that time will intertwine with every capillary through every rotation

of the

ground

My reflection who knows the time is simply going to do her time until she owns it.