By Keahi Elie

Labouyi Bannann

His gnarled, callous hands move with grace
Lines forming deep canyons in his palms 
Soil and spice settled in the creases 
Peeling back layers of plantain,
Exposing tender flesh to humid Miami air 

My father’s hands,
worn by soil,
softened by the baby

Slippers scrape against tile
The home stirs with the sun 
Carrot and plantain are shredded beneath the blade
Steam billows from the stovetop 
As cinnamon and anise perfume the morning 

Porridge pours like velvet 
I become swaddled in its warmth
I feel his embrace with each bite 

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Surrender

My body bleeds into cerulean watersThe sea welcomes my tears as offering
Where do I end, and where does home begin?
I share holy communion with mother
Loosening my claim on this vessel
Sunlight breaks across me
And my heart drums steady
Each exhale bringing me closer to weightlessness
I am safe
As I bare my soul to the heavens