And there
tied at my feet
that ****** weight
held fast to the stone.
Though not tied
tethered
to both rope
and statue.
"Anchored"
should be a welcome feeling.
My mooring is a heavy yoke
and the future is itching,
stabbing,
tearing
through my shoulder blades.
Who could have thought
that thought
would begin this battle
and win it
with wings?