In the depths of despair,
as the dagger twists,
I pause to say thank you.
Thank you because a look into another’s eyes
now reveals the moment the fire seared their skin,
and there is no separation between us.
Thank you because each new familiar hurt
feels less like my pain
and more like the pain that unites,
that sends us running to the arms of strangers
who are our mothers.
Thank you because always, inevitably,
the ice melts, the buds of spring return,
and the soil of my being is made
soft and fertile from the harsh cold months.