I focus, dream, wrap memories tight,

become the indelible center

of my life. I refuse to accept

rejection, loss, the end of hope.

I explode mosquitos, catch the scent,

bury knives in ice, deep-fry lies,

smudge my life. Make a bucket list,

rename shame. I map water,

seduce metaphors, eat bitter hearts,

paint souls black, do the splits.

I have grit, find a way to guide

Odysseus back. My tools — myself,

a Swiss Army knife, good shit.

I  use two pillows, sleep fast,

dream on key, fence-in night.

I go viral in Norway,  hook

black sky, teach Penelope to weave.

At dawn, she escapes me.