sitting on the window side of a plane
my metal dreams would fly high donning a straw-hat and virgin cells
I wouldn’t regret my decision.
Somewhere leaving the iron gates of my heart ajar would let a stranger of a new city cross a threshold in a summery dress and I wouldn’t pine over taking off the veils.
Someday standing under an unknown tree with fresh honey and unpolluted wings, I won’t blame my ambitions like an angry Roman mob attempting to vent the frustrations out.
Someday my wild spirit wouldn’t be the murderer of my mere wants
and would show herself swinging up in the garden,
shaking hands with the wind and
exhausting every cell with delight.
Someday somewhere while building sandcastles I wouldn’t forget to include a swing set
so I could slope off the yard or an intangible syllable
wherever it’d get lonely.
Someday I’d stop proving myself to you in my mind and find an exit before a furious clock could hit three.
Someday you’ll choose me.
And so will I.