Choose Freedom

Freedom is my right to choose.


I do not consent to the dizzy spells that

Flow from her lips to mine, but it is my

Choice to embrace the chill from her left-

Handed ring, for it soothes my mind.


I would choose to be free of

A politician’s hand tattooing restrictions

Thick enough to break my skin—

A man, not a lover, will try to engrave

His final decision.


As my brain decays, I willingly gasp for

The humble taste of uncertainty—

Humility tastes sweeter than the stale

Breath of self-righteous forgiveness.


But still, freedom is your right to choose.


Like an off-duty officer turning her

Back to a rekindled flame—will

You watch my skin blister if our

Languages aren’t the same?


Picture Credit: Chicago Now 


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