by little camilla jean
i really didn’t get her at first.
she tried to grab my hands and dance with me
in front of the nurses and doctors and guards
and i just stepped away
because it was way too cray
and i was trying to get the fuck out of there
(they take notes on you all the time).
she was from the ivory coast.
i guess that’s where they traded
poached elephant teeth,
fucking french blokes.
what must she have thought?
america is a scary joke?
then they let me put on my clothes on my way out.
and she sat with me for a little while,
and i taught her some basic signs
and we both smiled.
she was actually really nice, turned out 🙂
she better be better off now… or else God’s about to find out.
(dude, He already knows.)