From Aracelis Girma’s ‘Jacaranda’: She said, “but tell me a story that did not begin with
love.” This is why
my hands were clean
before and after the bathroom was stained with my mistake, is what they will call it my sin, is what they mean.
This is why the decision was already made, yet my feet unmoving laid against the pavement Why do we hesitate? Why do we drown ourselves with the dirt of their guilt? The decision was already made.
This is why I drove alone but you’re not alone, with the mud of their vitriol spilling out of every orifice,
I somehow
made it to the clinic
but you’re not alone,
they tried to tell me
but the decision was already made
the decision was mine to make
This is why my hands were clean, remain clean, and will forever be clean.