the unadopted

outside the concentric circles
i sprout branches
creeping toward the clusters
but the root never quite takes
no bloodline is established

the circles pass like bubbles around me
i can see in
but they will pop if i touch them
visions of belonging float before me
magnifying this square i am
which does not fit

the longing to be inside is sharp
how brave does one have to be in this life?
symmetry of comfort shown
like a movie you can never step into
symmetry of inclusion
whose scales are not tipped in my direction

slipping off the edges
reaching for any connection
in the face of this impenetrable division

the welcome beacon of my porch light
can shine for only so long
before my element burns out
and the roots that once stretched out
and rot
my bubble burst

Maurine Killough has a B.S. in Business from San Francisco State, which she did mostly to convince her family she wouldn’t become an artist. Visit her poetry blog at

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