She had spent
a month
not filling out this application and
a month
not making any decisions and
a month
keeping her doubts to herself.

But now she would feel
the seal of paper and spit
between her thumb
and index finger
and now she would feel
the slip from hand to shoot
to cold cement floor
and hundreds
of letters piled high
stamped and labeled

Hers is the one bound for Africa
and she can feel her tongue
start to catch
on the flap of the long
white business envelope
holding on to the taste
of that glue.