dunked in your colors again and again and
and again and i
and i hold my own breath inside me and fight to keep my eyes closed
curled into the tightest ball I suck at my own breast and
cower against the vinegar and dye everywhere penetrating
and the free air I breathe in my quick reprieve is no unshackling
only the rush for my lifeblood’s replenishment to fill me
inside as I freshly burned from sharp hot yellow
fall through your fingers into the calmest blue
About the AuthorMICHAEL DUNAWAY commended a biographer in the July issue of Pif for "Letting Janis be Janis." He is a Georgian by origin, a New Yorker by residence, a hero by night, and a smartass by nature. He miraculously received a BA in English from The University of The South and an MBA in Finance from Cornell University. He may be the only person in the world who's a fan of Beck, Francis Schaeffer, Dante, and the Blue Devils. When he was a kid, he wanted to be just like his daddy. He still does.
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