1. Primary Feathers

Since my tassel was memorialized, hanged 

On my rearview mirror,  appropriate 

For looking backwards, through long tangles--

Black and blue. I've watched the past 

Through distorted glass, with objectives appearing smaller. 

But here, I gripped a pen, 

Like it was my first,  hungry for a new story. 

The desk stable,  as my world shifted beneath me. 

Emory poured expectation in my hands. 

The ink finally sinking in,  I was more than 

Sounds passing In space. 

I was captured on the page. 

I was the vessel, cradling every symbol. 

For the first time, I gave her a title.