She Said Something

you obstructionists, you champions of light—the mettle filings of the migratory—you astronauts of prayer, doling out strength like the first bite of a beignet—you, serene stranger, cornered smart lap dancer, droopy eyed mutts, you queen of 125th street—the moses of exquisite hairdos—all you messengers of solid doubt, floundering faith and wtf, be nourished—be seen—be abandon—for those of us that say we know.