Cast Iron
The body’s constant motion made silences painful,
Awkward in crowds, shades of black that won’t match
Mother says you should blend, never make waves in still water
Unable to merge with the masses, it wasn’t meant to be this way
Never was a pot so crooked a lid wouldn’t fit
but these dents are the exception
Scraping the stainless steel until lips are worn down by the rogue grooves of rebellion
-Adair Rice











