What Made It Back

I came home gritty

the bits too tiny

to scoop up or sweep

make their way between

my toes

before you know it

you’re it

not just it

that thing

the thing that thinks it’s that thing

the thing inside that causes your arm to raise

when a song is sung called

“Your Name Here”

not the eyes or heart or teeth

the function of them

the air that feeds fire

the wind that fills sails

vapor

I was vapor

after some time

I have condensed

I am distilled