Emerald

Weeks until I touch the
ground of the only place
that has ever taken me as
its own. The only place
where I have danced in
the rain without looking
foolish, and seen the stars
unfold like a quilt, pulled
down from the attic. And
it's all I can do right now,
to hope in those weeks of
retreat, where I can stand
full and complete in who
I know I am, without fear
that it'll in some way be
perceived incorrectly.

How I long to be
bright again.