i. boy, and: i waded through a hurricane once the water was high

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• i. boy, and: i waded through a hurricane once the water was high
• Shy-Zahir Moses (bio)

i. boy

there was a wilt of a boy’s flesh thin the air slim around him how his mother wept her womb drya pile of shards a box of breath her name knead concrete kneed the boy a crack a white candle corner memorial shoes strung up the phone lines the boy can only be boy there is nothing left to grow [End Page 84]

i waded through a hurricane once the water was high

Shy-Zahir Moses

with my mouth openduring the baptismnose pinched, eyesclosed enough to seethe man that wasmeant to save mehis palms facingtoward a moonshifting tide iwas peter, treadingsea, sinking mylittle faith therewas nothing tograsp only the allof my life spillingdissolving turningthe water darki rubbed iton my gumsnumbed my tonguestaught me howto brick mylegs i think of god’sboy swallowing thewater whole, the skycracking, me,floating [End Page 85]

Shy-Zahir Moses

Shy-Zahir Moses (they/them) is a poet and scholar from Dallas, Texas, pursuing an MFA in poetry at The University of Texas at Austin’s New Writers Project. Their work meditates on the intricate relationship and tension between queerness, Black Southern spirituality/religion, and reckoning with god/God/The Ancestors.

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