My Middle name Florence

Hurricanes and hurraches
are poor planning
We thought we'd prepared well
parked close enough
packed light

Winds don't whisper
they wail
whipping water from the sky
and thrashing it
sideways

We run
gathering wet memories
and laughter
up the corner
up the steps

and watch from the balcony
how pretty panic can be
when it's all shades of melanin
that vibrancy
running from the storm

"You can call me Flo"
I am fierce
dripping and sharp
I swell. I flood
and won't apologize

for the weights of my grandmother
her whole first name
separates what my mother saw in me
and my father's crest
I move with all 3

I understand balance
between the devil and the dance
I am the movement
the mourning
Miss me with anything less

I chose what I am called
Even Charisma listens
9 times outta ten
and smiles
in agreement