for soprano saxophone and piano
i'm saying i've stood before a mirror & shattered with it when i saw myself a man & thought myself a lie because i did not think myself a man in the way my father is, in the way his father was. & the truth is i do not yet know the name for that kind of broken. but oh in this garden of fractured bones, we all-boys & maybe-boys— are learning to trade our brass knuckles for honeysuckles. in this garden, every shard becomes a petal. is.
-from Honeysuckle, Ayokunle Falomo