Self-Portrait with Cumin, Saffron, and Star Anise

To Cumin, Saffron, and Star Anise, sisters / of the roasted goat and rice ritual, daughters / of smoke and gossip, glowing and bloodwarm

Self-Portrait with Cumin, Saffron, and Star Anise

                             After Safia Elhillo

I pledge allegiance to sisters—to the wild
squeal of a secret over telephone wires,
the long stare between head tilt and cackle,
lipstick on the hem of a skirt, gym shorts
souring the sheets, earbuds mixed up good
with the keys and the cards in the underwear drawer.

& to the underwear drawer
which is now a makeup drawer,
I pledge allegiance
to the flag of the superior wrist flick,
the tender tremble of an eyelash upon ink dressing,
thumb-licked and charmed against slips, dips,
or worse—a dash too blunt for the crease.

& to the smooth stroke after, I pledge
an allegiance of color: Glazed Sugar,
Cabaret, Gold Gleam. Blunt in the bathroom
to smoke up the street. Rustle of coats,
clamor of boots, hush of palms
hustling heat from wintry air.

To Cumin, Saffron, and Star Anise, sisters
of the roasted goat and rice ritual, daughters
of smoke and gossip, glowing and bloodwarm,
allegiant to nothing but the fan’s whirling dervish,
I pledge allegiance to the pleasure of what needs doing
after: