#24: Heartland

By Halima Abukar

water in my throat will not go down, 
i wonder if you’d drink it instead.

i notice that you push your arms through glass vases, 
your long torso stretching across the brassy terrain
this is how you dance, you say
and you bend my knees for me. 

inch closer to me with your stubbly shins
and bury your head in sand at the beach.
shock me when your grainy face
looks nothing like mine, 
at dawn