“Imposter” by Alixa Brobbey

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 

This poem was nominated for a 2021 Pushcart Prize.

(Photo by Perchek Industrie on Unsplash)

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