From above, the gods set the bait in the social soil, in what would only seem
like plain sight to them as immortals
toying in the machinations of what
the fuck it might mean to be human. In the soil, they plant
what will either result in a lesson or blessing. They sort through
the school of life and gather
a plethora of moments, some storms, desire, yearning, the freedom
to be and exist in all forms, even in denial; sometimes that’s what it takes
to end up real smooth real cool but not too self-contained
or too compact or overly contrived. From start to finish
they watch our lives like tv shows and when the moment
feels right, they do something a little terrifying or jarring
depending on who you are: they evoke a seed of a companion
wondering what it might be like to experience yourself through
the soul of another, to see yourself refracted in the light of
a human with their own sets of movements and history. What soil
might this mortal’s soul need, they wonder. What length might
they go to seek community and connection, will they lose
themself in the process, will they love? Meanwhile, down below, you
become immersed in an immediate comfort of compatibility
If all goes well, you will be taught how to love yourself
because your new confidante insists on it. You will have
to challenge yourself, to fight the urge to think you know
everything under the sun, you will have to sit with yourself
in the damp soil and it is here, that you will grow
because there will be no room for pretend, though
sometimes, the bigger the group, the more like a stage
it might feel to exist. Sometimes, if you are not deliberately
choosing to perform, you will not want to do it for attention
Instead, you will search for the confidantes who tell you
about yourself and do not bring any added pressure but the
pressure to rise to their level and for them to rise to yours
You will never be the same after your paths have mingled
but you will be on your way, shocked at what the gods crafted to make you own who you will have become
somewhere along the wayside in a series of timelines that you never expected
ABOUT:
Stephanie Dinsae is a poet and Black Classicist from the Bronx. She is a 2019 Smith College graduate and has received a Master of Fine Arts in Poetry and Literary Translation from Columbia University’s School of the Arts. Stephanie often writes poetry about shame, Greco-Roman myth as it relates to Blackness and her own life, video games, and the flexibility/fallibility of memory. In 2021, she was named one of six Bronx Poet Laureate Finalists and won the DISQUIET Literary Prize in Poetry. Her favorite things to do are dance around to music and obsess over astrology. In case you were wondering, Stephanie has major Libra, Scorpio, and Sagittarius placements. For more of her writing updates and to connect follow Instagram: @writesumdinsightful and Twitter: @stephaydee13.
EDITOR'S SONG PAIRING:
Comments