Liminal

Thoreau Street by Izzy Martino

My body slumps against a telephone pole, arms wrapped weakly around its firm wooden body. It doesn’t return the embrace. Usually, I would camouflage into the very air I breathe, but tonight, I want to scream my existence from the rooftops. Tonight, I want to curse you all:  you laughers, you criers, you teachers, you friends, drinkers, smokers, lovers.