crisscross

i watch railroads trail behind me 
a woman chases after, out of breath
her shoulders, never relieved
give me liberty or give me death

a woman chases after, out of breath
her children ripped from her grasp

I plug my nose during my baptism, release my grip once I am dunked in the holy water of existential academics, letting it flood me. Water seeps through the crevices of my brain and tattoos the inside of my skin.

i know her and i’ve known her. analyzed her antics. 
she sits out on open window sills, Park Slope splaying beneath her. 
on her dresser lies the hollowed remains of old lovers, 
perfume and cheap lighters.  

The hebrews. Plagued with bloody backs, and water filled lungs. 
The wispy hair of newborns, soaked in the Nile.
But one still floats. Moses. 

The pharaoh’s daughter. Destined with tragic-rooted riches and suitors. 

i am sick of writing letters. 
torn at the brim, 
the envelope seal seared my tastebuds.
i write to characters and 
cry for help , i whisper to figments of my
boundless imagination