The island grows in me

it casts a shadow wider than sunlight,
in a few words, i am a nebulous
shape of episodes reaching upwards
and outwards—i’ve been caterpillars
and roses, still years in a garden
fits of laughter, morse code of silence
a blaze in the crowd, ghost in a closet
a series of stabs at being usual things
brighter, stronger, sharper, lighter
i’ve stretched my outline over the water
learning slowly that yearning can brim over
endless spaces and escaping is not forgetting
i grew up on this tiny, little island
now the island is me