How do you wake up happy, beyond your roots?
It’s a snap: a rainbow of shimmering champagnes
inside the closet with a sensual liquid. You may be like
the sun at night, a dip in the day’s oil. The gold mask
casts a shadow that’s visible just below your skin,
the veins in your arm, your face, your neck—
a larger halo for the journey to a heaven.
This month, I’m writing poems using words and phrases from the January issue of O Magazine. I’m finding it surprisingly harder than December Good Housekeeping. The language is so high-toned that it’s difficult to split it open, and also in some cases, people are sharing personal stories that it’s hard not to walk respectfully past.