On Belonging

you can step into life
this much:

trace the outline
of a shadow against
the bathroom door

stand at the top
of the stairs and look
down at your fingers

a piece of tempe
coconut milk

park your bike like you belong
but this is not your doorway

this isn’t meant
for you trailing
along like a child

despite your shoes left
empty in the garage

sweet tea
bay leaves

sit like the chicken
its legs tied together

the two of you just as confused


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