Today, Love: An Anthology of Self

Erosion

Fire escape,

escape to freedom.

If I am already free,

why do I fall asleep

encapsulated by bars?

Why do they oogle at me?

They are not kids at a zoo,

I am not an exotic animal;

I, too, am an

American.

I worked for it.

My father locks the window.

He says we did not flee oppression

for me to fall.

I think maybe we should

invest in a curtain.

The view is inviting.

I want to fly to Lady Liberty,

latch onto her torch

and burn.

Freedom to escape,

escape this fire.

I undo the lock

it is night.

There is only one star in the sky,

extended by copper.

Within and without this cage,

I am a specimen.

Here, everything I say

is lost to the wind;

it all washes up on the shore of this bay.

So I guess

this is fitting.

I close my eyes and breathe in

sweet solitude.

I feel my own penny wings

sprouting from my shoulder blades.

I let myself stumble.

Fire of freedom,

escaping to escape.