Kadon is with me in the library
and he grabs
a James Baldwin book from my pile
Me and Kadon—
who is quiet, pensive, drained—
start with one book
one page
one word
as if each idea is a link on a chain
that we are breaking
one by one
and two by two
I slide a blank paper and a pencil to Kadon
He reads, then he draws
straight lines at firstHe makes himself a grid
I take a paper and copy entire paragraphs from the books
so that piece of truth can carve its way into my soul
one word at a time
I read, then I draw
curved lines at first
rounding out the dark, sharp corners
bending the straight lines
until I make myself a circle and
another and another
and like from a round belly
I push myself out
eyes bright
barely crying
I am born again
into this oldold soul
