It’ll be like something in a movie

It’ll walk on wooden doors

And stomp them

Until they open

It’ll be a painting of a picture, taken 25 years ago when you first awakened, incarcerated

Sister

It’ll sting like the claw
of the pet you love and
have named and grown
up with when it cuts you,

And
It’ll all
Not be
Too

Sweetened and sorry

Happy and hardly

Worth the trip ‘round the world