A tablespoon of rust
mixed in blood
and a pinch of acid for my bones
A serrated piece of steel to
hold the banged-up liver
and a handful of sand in my eyes.
With a bag new bought and
shining wheels instead of toes
I’ve been pushed down the road
of conformity.
Reeling and rattling,
tripping and tangling,
I slide downhill to a
cave unknown.
A wagon like the inside of me
pushed me out of my trajectory
jilting me out of the downhill dream.
The rust poured out,
the sand swept in,
and the pieces of metal
came jangling out.
A deep inhale cleared my sinuses
and for the first time in my life
I smelt.
The wagon drove me
I drove the wagon
Uphill this time to a meadow
where stars sleep buried
where breaths make beds
and where running ahead is slower
than standing still and bent.
The wagon drove me
and I drove the wagon
onward, to a river that rests.
…now that you’re here
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