I will cradle your head in my hands like you once did for me You smell of light lavender and a hint of black coffee the same as always Your voice more hollow now never losing the cadence as when you’d call us to put the clothes on the line Your fingers walking along the edge of the tightrope nimble and with precision you help me learn the art of moving from basket, to commitment, to being free now those same fingers are hooked up to the beepy things you hate so much when I tell you you can’t go home for the 17th time in 8 minutes Your tone becomes clipped explaining why you can’t stay here I tell you “Home is when I’m with you” You calm I comb your hair now a faded hue of slate You are the reason I am here Your body now getting ready to leave me You grab my hand with surprising strength even though your tendons have softened with time You stroke the back of my hand softly with your fingertips I become 5 again
Dayna Hodge Lynch (she/they) is a Black femme poet from North Carolina. Dayna received her B.A. in English, a minor in African and African-American Studies at Loyola University of New Orleans, their MFA from Queens University of Charlotte, and MLS from North Carolina Central University. Her work can be found in Rattle, Rappahannock Review, Potomac Review, NZ’s Tarot, the B’K, and daynahodgelynch.com.
