A Sloped-Lane Tumble

Inspired by reeseriversandstone's 'Dreamsicle, Belly Up'

Pigtails in my short hair
ponytails stabbed with chewed black pencils, my
paper crown proudly lopsided –- a red-blue-markered-stapled staple.
Next round rounded up, it’s over five; our new
playground lacks the jungle – it’s only swings – while
ink drips from the pen my classmate bit through, blue smeared on her
flushed lips: the bubble sheet speckled with dead ink stars; she leaves to join the
faux elite, her pockets full of
stolen sweets, the
track meets are meetings of runaways.
City sea swallows me whole: I left home but long to be
home free; I stare at the sun and dream
ice dreams – my heart somewhere else – while overhead the
skies freeze and the man next to me coughs a
gravel sneeze, his voice rusted by smoke and glass and salt –

I close my eyes, my knees bloody from
asphalt somersaults.

El

VT

YWP Alumni

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