This is actually an improv off of Morgan's piece she submitted for workshop. I liked the idea of a "normal" person wishing for something a little dark and sinister to enter their lives. So I started this piece, which is still a very rough draft.
I need
to be snuck up on, grabbed tightly by the arms
leaving red finger marks like claws
slapped, maybe. Definitely shoved up against a wall, or shoved into a counter
the force leaving a mark.
Taken, not planned
like bologna sandwhiches:
one without crust, the other without mustard
cut into triangles and served with apple slices
no sugar added, 100% fruit juice.
I will cry, bite, kick
feel the flesh and blood collect under painted fingernails
the struggle over him, under him, is the struggle to let go
of all things collected
like hope, and state quarters. We are only missing two-
Puerto Rico and Guam. And Minnesota, for awhile.
But we have American Samoa, isn't that impressive?
Like my balcony, the image I thrust onto the neighbors
lined with solar-powered party lights shaped like Japanese lanterns
and silk flowers that blow slightly in the breeze
nestled into real potting soil.
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