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Writer's pictureZanele Chisholm

Escaping the bell jar

Last night I took a trip


Last night I took a trip

We played Jazmine Sullivan and you become nothing more than a blimp


On my mind and in the wonders of the sky

I dived deeper between our love

To find the woman I’ve been thinking of

Since late june


When you told me that nobody would love me as much of you do

And I told you that I’d rather be blue, a deeper hue, to surpass the chain


you wrapped around my skin, and dipped me in hot chocolate

Said you liked your women dark, so you could be the moon

And I, your surrounding definition

Smothered in starlight and plastered in plasma

An erotic magma

For you to plant your petition

to ajar my soul


But I took a trip last night

and found self-control

And a bizarre

Amount of birth control

Between my thighs

And again in the sky

I saw your mother

Her figure put together

By the clouds and the endless azure

She whispered in my ear

And begged me not to live in your bell jar

Told me to write a memoir

separate from our castaway love

Told me being a woman meant more

than being my father’s grudge


So I ran

until I found the sea


Ran so fast I think

I might have stopped breathing

Ran so fast I

played double dutch

with the wind


Ran so fast I

think I grew wings

More vast than you and

your bell jar

Faster than the lightning you

sent to strike me down


I ran to a sea

In which I could not drown

I ran to the sea


Capsized by thorn-crowned women,

backs unbowed

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