They take off the handcuffs
and set her free
even though
she is only a prisoner
in her own mind, tied
up and gagged
No villain,
And her own crimes
Done to herself,
locked up in that
early morning dungeon
the squeaky wheel of the hamster cage,
for company
She no Steve McQueen
No ball to bounce
against the walls
to pass the time,
and even when set free again
she fears what might transpire
handcuffs still pressed
against her wrists,
the way an amputee
still feels the missing limb,
too much a part of her life
to let go of
merely with an acquittal,
too meaningful,
something she could fight against,
something
– even in pain and
anguish –
to tell her she is real,
and now,
floating in the air
she needs to test her wings
with hopes she can
still fly
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