Safe Space

by Amanda Conover, USA

 my mother has plastic 
 pumping through her
 veins and into her rivers,
 oil clogging every inch
 of her crevices. 
  
 blood-stained lungs
 and a worn-out throat
 drive her to slam water
 in fistfuls at the humans
 who tainted her air.
  
 hurricanes swirl while
 fire-kissed skies
 threaten her existence
 along with mine
 and yours
  
 will it still be called
 a safe space
 when space is 
 the only place
 that is safe? 

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