It is a miracle

some nights, I watch myself
sleep and wonder what
would happen if I refused to
return into myself.
when my best friend passed,
I knew that he was trying
to get back into his body
and that he had forgotten the key inside.
You cannot return home without your key.
sometimes, I recite lamentations
to remind myself that my body
is an ancient city lying desolate
and mourning, mourning, mourning.

Younglan Talyoung