Sometimes, where we are planted, is not where we will blossom. Having been given feet, it is up to us to journey to where the soil gives the kind of nourishment we need to grow to our full potential. Let us encourage such pilgrimages, not clip each other’s wings, and force iron bars around the soul.
They always met in the garden,
She was waiting, with lipstick-kissed cup,
Tanning in her bra, and when the girl came,
She smiled with her whole face, and the girl,
In her pink hotpants and tie-dyed tanktop,
Smiled back, and fetched a tray for the cupcakes.