I.
sometimes the flames tickle
the soles of my feet – the follicles in my skin jump
like fish out of water to find the sun
because the calm dark deep called home
is a prison where I lay on the stretching table.
II.
grade teacher said to always capitalize “I”
because I’m special and worthy of respect.
but the more my Inner-demons stretch my lImbs
the less InclIned…
i am to believe her.
III.
try to breathe on the city docks –
the waves carry the sounds of screams
from home to my emancipated ears.
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