my favorite mug is an ad for the state of florida,
and it’s filled with all the extra energy
that i've wrung out of my hands
and each one of my limbs
with violent shakes
its shape holds my character comfortably,
and it conceals my sculpted droplets
of shame—my tears of laughter
escaped from my mouth’s edge on the
highest floor of a university library
and the accidentally touched fluid my
nose sniffs on my fingertips to see
how badly contaminated they are
but my growing greed to
conform through camouflage
will shatter that mug
and its one million, sparkling
shards will no longer restrict
the humanity
broken from its dam
each individual drip of
my flow of little hip dances
choreographed lying in bed,
in an airplane seat,
in a lecture hall desk—
and every drop of
my meandering thoughts too
busy to realize how loudly
i knock on doors—
will flood my ground
but when these vesicles
of liquid human evaporate,
i want them to condense on my body
and climb over the crest of my brow
like a streak of sweat,
and i want each bead to glisten
and blind
everyone around me