04: February 2015 #03 - I-95
Authored by Jackie Anderson
I found no home in your crooked teeth. Twisting my wrists, I collapse into lakes. My body rises with expired goose-bumps, and trains run over my doubts. The South plowed me into submission- with its beat box boys and swampy curls. Captured by a torched womb, I wept when I shot back like a firework. My home spills over maps when you sew me along state lines. Mothers fly over me, I am a marionette to their anecdotes, a new commodity- I am a walking, rocky pathway. If I let you swallow me, will you let me stay? I've lost my shortcuts, my keys to the fences- I live in your bones.