burning incense is not meditation
making love is not revolution
the body is not freedom
the island is not freedom
the classroom is not freedom
scribbling is not introspection
ignoring is not prosecution
drinking is not medication
a photograph is not a memory
isolation is not preservation
today I stood in the kitchen in my salty bikini and ate an entire baby pineapple over the sink.
I don’t care what it wasn’t. I know what it is.