You carry yourself like a leftover meal, your back an arched rib bone. You think yourself alone in doubts, alone in the way your arteries stretch your yearnings towards home. Eyes searching during whispered prayers, in this you are too alone. Bread caught in a burning throat, water salted with desire. The fluttering dove within your chest yearns to break free from its muddy cage. Not alone, in this homesickness, we all yearn for the navy atmosphere, the silence in gravity's tides. Our stardust bones beckon us home to Kolob's neighborhood, to follow the dove to the skies. Sometimes there is no light by which to safely climb Jacob's Ladder, so remember, the fire in your throat and the flint walls of this cage. Let them smolder up to heaven.
Alixa Brobbey is a law student at Brigham Young University. More: facebook.com/alixawrites
(Photo by Perchek Industrie on Unsplash)