Do not be surprised
If you wake in the morning
To discover she is a body of stars
To be soft is a revolution
Staying soft is crash landing on untimely mirrors
Joying as a soft Brown woman is a wildflower born without thorns
She moves the sunrise with her laughter
She survived and stared back at the night’s sole silver eye
She is not legendary and yet, you stand there, a foot separated from her botany
