Delivery Driver
Monika Monika
Sit and wait
Patiently
Alone underneath
The staircase
Of our new home
Miscellaneously
Unaware of
The burns on my hands
Like a furnace's heat
You've been stripped of your sovereignty
And left to tend to your own seeds off the back of your own
In turn, the earth will spin
And, in turn, the plants will grow back in
Your hands will be monuments that measure where the pain has been
They were encapsulating and calculated