Here in the corners of seaside towns
we've been cutting teeth on our resentment,
pressing gums to the edge of glass,
gnawing windowsills like the forgotten
animals we found inside our chests.
Did you feel it—the shift to captivity,
from wilderness to concrete cisterns,
from field to fenced-in stage? Here,
we’re reduced to digging up our old bones
and burying all the ambition we have left.
What was it you said on the twin mattress
next to mine? Did you make me promise
to escape? I don’t remember
but if this door opens I’m getting out.