was tighter than an anaconda. He road me
like he did his Honda. I was sugar in
his frying pan. He stoked me till I was

flan. Wiggly on his plate. I couldn't walk
with this wobbly gait. If I didn't break
free I'd break in two. So, I took a shot and wings

I grew. I didn't go far at first. It took months
to widen my berth. But once I hit the air, once
the weight of his stare was history

I saw him clear. With the rose cataracts removed
from my eyes I flew a thousand miles high.