Falling is a metaphor for everything
from love to death to a mouth full of land sharks,
but especially change. Not as in spare change, but as in when the walls
that have been holding you in or holding you together
turn their pockets inside out
and you fall.

Here I am praying
to the smell
of escape.
Sort of like cleaner,
harsher. More iron.
An iron flute, a fingernail file.
We’re playing chess with prison bars.

still

here are hands
that are really good at pretending
to be someone else’s hands

here are hands
that are really good at pretending
to be stuck nails

see them shine
how bright