When I Take
Another Form
I am baking
in my kitchen,
the heat
from the oven pinching
my face into
a sourdough loaf.
This day is
a type of lynching
where the hot
element glows,
a brand that
can alter my skin.
Written words
are too much
some ingredients
are missing
inside of
me, inside this body.
I am
comprised of fiction
and if
proofed and baked
I will turn to
stone,
my heart
encased
in my body’s
prison.
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