Enter Genetics

It took the world 197,000 years to make me. 

My dna formed leisurely across centuries,

like a slow-cooked meal.

My nose preceded me into the world, 

as did my hands, my short temper, 

the locks of my hair, my thirst 

for poetry and books, how quickly 

I grow bored, and my struggle

to fall in love. My peculiar mind 

must have inhabited another woman’s body

before I came around. I have sailed from eternity

to the world of questions: my consciousness

in one hand, and my fear in another.

Two chains around my neck

house all my ancestors. 

I wonder which of all my bodies

experienced the greatest joy? 

Which body swam

in the company of waves?

When was I a fighter? Or a lover 

annihilating men’s hearts?

In this body, I possess bones,

flesh, brown eyes, and I suffer 

beneath the skies 

of consciousness and stars. 

I spend all my time asking questions

if only to imagine a companion along the road. 

And I will not bequeath my progeny 

to this world, but, like Al-Mutanabbi, 

I will hand down verses, lines, 

and questions to accompany humanity

into every future,

like genetic chains.