Cough up my spooked heart in my hands,
searching both ways for a crosswalk,
dust the sweat off my eyes like windshield wipers,
spit up old adjectives caught in my throat,
rustle my collar to hide my scratches and bruises,
facing the façade of life fluttering like a peacock,
strutting dauntingly with a two-step,
I’ve learned my dance,
my teacher's passion makes my spine tingle,
you’re nothing but a mountain marauder,
merely a pebble poking my soul.
