We have lemony crystals jumping out of packets 

Dancing to the sound of stirring on round walls 

Music floating from flooded basements 

From the boxes filled with ornaments and Christmas garland 

We have laminate smacking to the beat of stomping feet 

Guided onward by speakered music 

Permeated by the stench of collard greens 

And cinnamon rolls in the morning 

Apple cider and steeped tea at night

As we laugh at Big Bang theory 

Mattie Grace Levy

I'm a black woman, a classically trained oboist, a self-taught composer, and an introspective poet trying to comprehend my thoughts.

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