today, we are Kings of Cups
ruled by both head and heart
— the cups look like bells that never rang
our gender has no bearing
to master the high sea of emotions
— no wild swimmer, me, that’s another Julie
from my granite throne I’m ready to
float on a turbulent sea
— we are bright coloured fish
who never swam, leaping melodically
we are birds that never flew, let us go
— the Shetland boat is ready to catch us
through rainstorms when we fall asleep
despite the North Sea waves
ebbing us away to the isle where a
tree never grew
our covid test roulette wheel,
invites a lateral flow
of anxiety
— we are ready, calm,
balancing on hopes of one red line,
holding our reusable cups
and our recyclable sceptres