Ου πρωτη φιλη μου,
αλλ᾽ πρωτος ερος, νομιζω.
Νομιζω; Βουλομαι πειθεσθαι.
Ου δυναμαι.

Βουλομαι και εθελω εχειν σε.
Βουλει αλλ᾽ ουκ εθελεις εχειν με.
Ελπιζω φιλεσεις με,
φιλεσω γαρ σε αει, Σιερρα.

The shooter: white-
my race too.
The shooter: male-
my gender too.
The shooter: 21-
my generation too.

The victims: Christians-
my people too.
The place: church-
my hallowed place too.
The church: Emanuel-
my church’s name too.

Dylann Roof: Lutheran-
my faith too.

His motive: racism-
my problem too.

I’m told to let loose,
To let what loose?
“On the dance floor… on the dance floor,
let loose on the dance floor, Owen”

But… But…
To let loose is to lose;
to lose control.
Going “where the music leads”
is a new, scary place.

Everything must fit, must make sense;
Moving, swaying, ‘dancing,’ don’t.
What is there to gain
besides a common sense of…
awk
wardness?

“You’ll dance your way closer
to each other” (somehow).
But why grow closer in body?
Why not grow closer in mind?
Let us talk, dig beyond the surface.
“May I have this conversation?”

I’ll share my thoughts, my self,
and you’ll share yours.
So it will go, finding its own rhythm:
sometimes slow, methodical;
sometimes quick, passionate;
always common, enthralling.

Only then, with our intellects engaged,
engaged with each other’s,
can we truly dance:
the beautiful dance of the mind.

I fear

not what is to come, but

what I leave behind.



“How’s college?” I’ll surely be asked.

My dreaded reply:

“Can’t wait to go back.”

Sometimes I wish it would never end,

Each passing day, a day closer.

Arriving soon at graduation, at the close,

Cherishing each moment,

Reflecting upon these 3 joyful years.

Everyone has to go sometime-

Sometime, for me, is now.

To new comforts I confidently go.