You will find roads familiar and vacant, daylight

obscured by furrowing sky, some congested covering

will billow from an apocalyptic breeze. Roadside

civilizations will trace piecemeal monuments to

all you knew as home. You’ll be passenger to

your flesh, and it will guide you, traverse

broken ground and swallowed foundations. And though,

each day will feel shorter than the last, every breath you

take will be history. Your fingers’ interlaced,

will be folklore and tale of hero. You will see the magic of night

fall. How the earth used to speak to itself. Before splitting open,

to collect our trespasses. Before land and sky became rapture,

and nations became emaciated with the anxiety of border.

Your flesh will map homelands on your spine, as cities burn

on the horizon, tongue all wounds whole, from spit and roots.

You’ll find your limitations at the edge of a galaxy.

All roads will lead to the end of the galaxy,

and know you will find yourself:

an effigy of stars.

—–

jayy dodd is a writer and artist born in Los Angeles, now based in Boston. He’s a senior editor at The Offing and Blavity. His work has appeared / will appear in Lambda Literary, Crab Fat Magazine, Prelude Mag and THOSEPPL among others. His first chapbook [sugar in the tank] is forthcoming on Pizza Pi Press. He is the co-director of Books of Hope, a youth poetry publishing and performance program based in Somerville, MA. Website + Social Media – @jayydodd