My aquarium breathed family enjoys cooking crab legs. I crawl into my corner
of the house during many gatherings,
eating lemons like apples, familiar with the taste of bitterness. My teeth sizzle every
time although I don’t flinch as if my skin was thick. I know how my words can be enough to produce gunfire. Another day,
another grand jury, another indictment. It doesn’t even come up in dinner discussions
much anymore. The conversation shifts, some cousins start fishing for compliments. I reel back my insecurities,
thankful that I’m a rabbit’s foot. Not currently facing police who would show up
here because they were called, called because they aren’t here for us.
Everywhere inside the fish tank
there are reflections looking ready to consume who they mirror.
©deonteo
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