No bars can hold me, now

it came
alittle
like
a
metal file,
buried
deep inside
a
cake.

the bars can't hold
me anymore,
not now, not anymore.

there will be much work
tonight.

but for now,
i imagine how nice the cake,
not the store bought kind.

she baked it herself.
homemade,
from scratch-

i am moved,
as
i lick
frosting
off an
old
rusty
metal
file.

Then pull a comb out of my back pocket, and begin to prepare


07'