even if i'm unexceptional

even if I am unexceptional,

i can know exceptional people.

i can laugh with them

dig our fingertips into the same

bowl of rice

watch the same sun set.

even if i am not holy,

i can watch God unfold.

i can plant a rose in

my half-used water bottle

and watch its petals unfurl —

i can release my own fist

and crack my own knuckles.

even if i am unworthy of being known,

i can get to know others.

i can press my ear to the wall,

knock on the door and be heard.

i can sit beside skin

far fuller of blood than mine,

and hear how it hums lullabies —

like a window unit AC

in a north jersey summer.

i do not need to be the best

to experience the best

my orange slice of the world

has to offer me.

it is possible that,

even though my knees have been

stuck in the mud

for all these years —

the tree beside me

can kneel down

and let me know its fruit.

•

Cover Photo: Ava Emilione