Some questions sound harmlessbecause they arrive dressed in curiosity,wearing a smile.Like asking what we bring to the table,as if we are plates,as if our worth only arrivescarrying a lid.The loud voices.The heavy expectations.I want a woman who cooks,who listens,who heals,who bends,who opens her bodylike a door that never creaks.They want a mother,a love,a counselor,a wife,and… Continue reading Borrowed Wood