i remember lightning

(the rain in the recording of this poem is a dream soundtrack)

i remember lightning
the second he tore it
it was typed on rice paper
and it wasn’t for him

somewhere in Japan 
a woman with her washi
or in China with her mulberry 
dried pulp origami

paper translucent/paper delicate/paper strong
some kind of fear 
of shredded journals 
inside of me

jute fiber 
hennaed hands 
a beggar pounding on my window
punching through my parchment

the way things break
the way fairness doesn’t show itself,
the way we fight back
love back
love harder
love it away
love it anyway
love it, any way 

anyway, it’s good to be home

anniewood.com