Polkadotted friend, it's so nice to see you again. Show me how to feel inside. Show me all the things I hide. Begin the game of smiles, our feet chilled on the tile. Your heart scarred dog is running amuck. How it foreshadows the turning of your luck. A life on hold. Your freedom torn, but I see how you keep strong, refuse to mourn. Clutch your 50 hearts. Make due with an early start. Remind me how my chest is a cage, composed of sickly pink and beige. Questions I can't touch, how the feelings are too much. Professional blue dissipates. Warm reds help further seal my fate. A piercing orange leaves me confused. How I could care less that I was being used.





Andrew Winzenburg Mankato, Minnesota

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