it’s has it’s sights on me, you see
the sun, has it in for those who hide
inside, tapping out their fantasies
like one of many monkeys
I’ll turn these keys into sails then
open windows to a breeze
and dodge the bullet, escape incarceration,
dance daft into Spring air lent
summer’s warmth by the accident
of an island then suddenly free
I’ll fall
because I live on the second floor.
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