Tweet, tweet,
feeling feet,
pinky toes interlocked--
sheets like magic carpets--
an escape with wings.
Air lifting up
from lungs,
unable to breathe,
greed, taking my last breath
just to feed--to eat--to need.
Pouring liquid fantasies,
like fingerprint dandelions,
ready to bloom ,
until erupting from cocoons,
padlocking us in cages,
draining our veins,
feeling our shame.
I forgot to heat your porridge
for long enough.