This was submitted to me in hand writing by Cilisa Lugara.
“Untitled”
We are flying. Above the water.
Behold my broken wings.
We’re swimming. Beneath the surface.
Behold my fragile lungs.
We are walking. Through the weather.
Beware my damaged husk.
We are crawling. Right by the mountains.
Beware their rocks are turning away.
Above the water. We are flying.
I need these broken wings.
Underneath surface. We are swimming.
I need these feeble lungs.
Right through the weather. We are walking.
I need this damaged hide.
By the mountains. We are crawling.
The rocks are turning away now.