It wasn’t a prison…

it was our little game
he’d set up a
pretty cage
of iron bars
around me
and smile, “escape.”
I’d tuck in my stomach
and slip through the bars
and run into his arms

he would set up
a maze of mirrors
and chortle “escape”
I’d break the glass
with my bare fist
and give him a high five
with my bloodied hand

and on and on our game would go
till the day he laughed “escape”
and tried as I could I couldn’t get out

the laughter never stopped

it wasn’t a prison till I couldn’t get out


ravanji

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