Goodbye (And I’ll Go)

And then there were the days I wouldn't let the sun inside me. Too
happy. Too color. Too much energy. And tell the coroner that I must
be wrapped in French translation. For my father’s sake. And to
cradle me in an Irish flag—for my mother, with creole chatterings
written around the edges, for my father’s father. Allow me to mean
it when I say my last words, which will be dedicated to the girl
who danced for her pact with the color green that laces all nature.
Goodbye.