MARIA A. ARANA
Phoenix
Song
I stand in middle of quad
3 doors face me
walls as high as skyscrapers
lean over me
blocking the sun
touching clouds
stirred into submission
my forehead squeezes
moisture from my eyes
leaving dry lips
in place of shackles
the doors stay shut
their handles gone
and I’ve lost the key
days pass and my feet
melt into the stone
my body burns wings
scratching the sky with talons
leaving the mark of death
littered across its canvas
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