Caged.
Aren’t we all?
Not in that metaphysical way
That college students debate about
Over four dollar mochas
In sleepy corner cafes.
No,
Not that way.

Our cages are built
Of flesh,
Not society.

In our cages
Hearts flutter like clipped wings
Each time an emotion strolls by.
In our cages
Blood pumps like gripping talons
Morning, noon, and night.
In our cages,
Nerves twitch like beady eyes
Catching gestures, hints, words, glances.

The chirpings of our soul
Are not the words
We say,
But the actions
We fulfill.

So we will fly,
Or try to,
Under all of this flesh.
At least our eyes will be shining.