Sole of My Soul
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"shoe soles are poetic...fight me"
These shoes no longer fit
Torn stitch
Missing sole
Floating down sun drenched river
I ponder if retrieving It would suit my purpose
Or further enslave the symbolic liberation from foot
Oppressed by lace and tread
Left to walk earth and root
As I force it up between my toes
Leaving trails of heel
Scent of pheromone
Torn shirt
There is nothing to sniff out
Or parties to gather
Only reflective soul
A vestige of the whole
Alongside an old shoe
And buoyant insert
Copyright © Andreanna Escamilla | Year Posted 2020
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