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The Gate

Erykah Brisebois


He wraps my skin in wool.

The red shield I drag reflects through the sun,

It brings light to his vision.

He assembles the gate,

allows it to leak through our partnership.

Where is the entrance to freedom?

He wraps my skin in wool.

I’m trying to get through these cemented polls of thorns,

Yet I’m wounding my hollow heart.

My shield is cracking,

Blood is flooding through the gate.

Where is the entrance to freedom?

He wraps my skin in wool.

I see his eyes turn white, the sun is too bright.

He strolls with his white cane,

feeling every part of our home,

my heart is abandoned.

You burst.

Here is the entrance to freedom.


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