If you see me
cradling a dandelion once yellow
gone to seed, white and full
of future weeds, I might
be the child blowing wishes to
the winds of time.

Or if you see me
in my birthday suit
not the current one,
but the bloody one
that even my mother didn't see,
I might be a woman
holding a crying baby.

If you see me
at the ocean's edge
it would be after the umbrellas
and lifeguards had gone home
.
I would be the mermaid
out of water, having traded
her voice for legs and love,
collecting feathers and
holy seashells.

Or if you see me at night
in the darkness of my childhood
backyard, I would be dancing-
arms reaching to the moon and stars
with a tiara of fireflies and luna
moths
woven into my long, loose hair.

If you see me dancing,
you might even hear the hymns
I sing when no one is around,
simple hymns that are soul stirring
like the scalloped sugar spoon
I don't use for sugar
in morning coffee or evening tea.

If you see me
in a choir robe, I would be
large and black
and my voice would blend with others
or if I sang solo, you would weep
for all that is sad and beautiful
even if my words are not
the same as your language.

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