her heart is without wings
and her nerves have yet to lace their sneakers.
her only route out works for a magic enterprize
and is unaware of the fact that
he's about to become her taxi.
Mr. Good's a variation of a certain dream,
a Romeo hidden by two Greek masks
and she says,
"maybe it's time for a little more stirring
and a little more shaking"
though she fears this concoxition
may be too strong to stomach.
his voice still echos
in her tanned face and tangled hair -
the possibilities are endless when
dreaming is still a freedom
(and not yet a privilege).
maybe this time
the fortune cookie wisdom will take her
farther than the bottle-caps have;
maybe this time
she'll go to Disney for free.
- Jacqueline C. Audrey
