Maya Carter

WHAT I’D PUT ON MY MANTLE HAD I A HEARTH

The sweet way my cat Beatrice finally learned to sleep on the couch, soft belly turned towards the light. 
The pressure and warmth spread throughout the torso when hugged from behind; 
warmth in general like— mint tea steaming in the “handsome” mug, altar fires singeing off chin hair, my stockinged feet tucked underneath a blanket. 
Sunrise. 
Sunset. 
The moon growing + shrinking + pulling at the shoreline’s skirt.
Stars
(remember those silly certificates
you could buy to say that a particular
one was yours + had a name 
only to find out years later so many folks named the same one, 
to me that feels like something magical, that so many people wanted to
gift the untouchable to someone beloved)
Gregory Porter’s voice singing the word “stratosphere”. 
New & old records. 
$5 gracing my palm again and again and again at the Owens family reunion in Demopolis Alabama.
The way Aunt Rachel made that lemony dessert for years ‘cause i said I liked it once, even after i stopped eating. 

When i learned to eat again. 

Thrift stores. 
Small bookstores with cats that sleep in the window. 
A pile of friends in the living room. 
Poems. 
My grandmother’s laugh ringing out over the phone line, the infinity in her smile, the honey in her voice when she says"that's my butterfly".
Ice cream and pasta in Marina Bay. 
Finding new items at Trader Joe’s + rushing home to cook them. 
My stand mixer & apron of baby teal blue. 
Making up new names for colors. 
Morning sunlight dancing on the parquet floor. 
The itch of a healing tattoo. 
Making out. 
Making up. 
Seeing the Northern lights for the first time in April: 
(the thin green band // a thicker green band// green band that
stretched across the horizon //  
splits in two // dances and becomes gradient // the gradient flaring
and smoldering // soaking my 
scarf with tears at the majestic weight of the sky )
Clothes that match me. 
Teeth closed around my earlobe. 
That feeling when the right song comes on with the right people on a crowded dance floor 
(for me it is still Rihanna's "Please Don't Stop The Music" i am not
ashamed)
Medicine. 
Tinctures. 
Salves. 
Getting the chance to say goodbye.
Love. 
(for you + you + you + you + you + you and me + all of us.)

@maya_n_carter
maya@nynf.org