on knowing people whose first language is not this one

these shoes feel like wings. 

i am

f    l    y    i    n    g

across the newly grooved pavement, balancing

on pink wheels and scraped knees and a perfect morning

there are things i want to say to you. i feel like a fangirl; like rounded block letters on lined paper and i's dotted with hearts. i 

america is a kindergartner with her hair in pigtails. her

eyes are bright blue & curious. she wants to know the answers

to everything and she can't understand why

no one will tell her.