Not the Same

When you climb
out of a black well
you are not the same

you come to
in the blue air
with a long sore scar
circling your chest
like the shoreline
of a deep new sea

your hands are webbed
inviting you
to trust yourself
in water stranger
and wilder
than you’ve ever known

your heart has a kick
your eyes have
a different bite
you have emerged
from some dark wonder
you can’t explain

you are not the same

–Dorothy Porter

(From The Bee Hut, Black Inc. 2009.)