Bodies & Cusps

Yesterday I stood staring 

out the window of my dining room 

where a perfect view can be had of 

my across-the-street neighbor's house.

There

congregated six young bodies

underneath a basketball hoop

in a driveway, doing what young bodies do--

everything. 

Kids of working class mommies and daddies

and single mommies and dudes & butches who drop in 

and immigrant families trying to stay hidden

one young body fat

one young body disabled

four bodies brown

two bodies female--

all the bodies more than these things visible

or perhaps not even the things I project as visible--  

all in a city that pictures itself 

white and man and rich and free and "right"

all these young queer/ed bodies 

all moving

all monitoring

all making their way in and around and with each other.  

One body crying against the fence

one body throwing its hips and hair 

one body dominating the court

multiple bodies aimless in themselves 

and curious about the others--

languages acquired

sensibilities secured 

feedback loops tested and thrown away. 

How do we gain a sense of self? 

How do we become who we are?

Bodies colliding. 

Observing this cusp 

between elementary and adolescence

playing itself out across the street 

fills me with terror

as I too stand in a cusp, 

mine between reckless young adult 

and newly responsible mom. 

I see my own body over there, years ago

completely ignorant to the consequences of risk,

naively thinking it was invincible, hard, 

beyond the porosity of skin and precarities of the human heart.

The things of my skin and heart

that are broken beyond repair

scream out to them: 

BE CAREFUL WITH EACH OTHER, IT'S NOT SAFE OUT THERE. 

I see my children's bodies over there, years from now

tender, fragile, totally vulnerable   

trying to find their way, their means and ends, 

among the other fleshy creatures they encounter 

who too are tender, fragile, and totally vulnerable. 

The parts of me that are faithless, 

narrow and myopic beyond repair

scream out to (future) them: 

I'LL NEVER LET YOU GO! IT'S NOT SAFE OUT THERE. 

How we knock up against each other 

and signify to each other 

and compel and disgust 

and normalize and stigmatize each other

our bodies these vessels and receptacles, 

full of meat and tendons, 

bravery and bullshit,

how we do it,

day after day 

season after season

year after year, 

how we do it, 

when it hurts so bad 

and pleases so mighty, 

how we do it, 

when there's too much to lose

and more than enough to gain 

is simply beyond me.