I have been here before, in this Sandpaper Place,
I know these stones by chilling heart
Sometimes they are ragged, slicing my palms,
Sometimes smooth,
or bars,
bright clear windows,
locked doors.

There were times I curled under, away
From the Sandpaper place.
Built my nautilus outward,
spun from bone.
Fingertips in, pill-bug snug, soft worm skin
Chrysalis’d tight—
But it’s been long since my wings broke that skin.

Cocoons cannot fit me
(nor this Sandpaper Place),
pinkened palms can’t survive in the sun.
I grow suction cups now, inside hands, down both wrists,
Reach out wide, splay myself to cold:

Sister-limbs fuse as one
Girl-beast chain, sister-strong, woven tight:
Isla and Sasha, Marena, Hilo’s siren song:
No fear, be brave, Forward fight!