If only I could pattern a raft
from red flags, safely sail
through bullshit and wait
for clouds to part, a rainbow
to promise, Mujer,
you’ll never need to feign
interest in his interests again,
I wouldn’t be where I began
wishing this compass pointed up
over north, so I’d grow
into a sequoia, let roots
touch the ocean, let stars be
my lovers, so many, I’d never
know a night without kisses again.