I'm surrounded on all sides by
the cotton fields, the stems of
brown and bronze protecting
me like a breast plate.
I didn't know I was so indoctrinated.
Whose back have I stood on,
and whose tongue have I used
to build the finer threads of the
silky dreams I can barely bare to
hold in the palms of my borrowed
hands?
YOU ARE READING
CLOUDS FOR MY EYES
PoetryThis prose-poetry chapbook explores themes of clouded judgments, devotion and deconstruction, and cotton fields where a belief in purpose and a belief in freedom no longer align. New poems released every Thursday at 9PM MST/11PM EST.
