knees pressed against the scraper by Hannah Levin (13, Arizona)

silky ripples pool up beneath the nape of Liberty’s neck
under this characteristic Arizona blend
of heat & spice & dust & song;
she covers artificial canvases with bloody opposition
i turn to the sky.

---

what am i looking for? i do not know,
damned to being a child in the crossfire of a libel,
a riot, a protest, a change- my tiny fingers ball up
young hands falling to old ground.

i am a quilt of molted words
patched together at fraying seams;
i am a kaleidoscope of salt & tears
reflected over some forgotten eclipse,
i am a piece of ancient artwork
carved with sticky clay from thoughtless hands-

but most importantly:
i am powerless within a powerful country
and there is a call i cannot heed.
there is a voice i cannot follow
for another five damned years.
there are things i cannot say
and things i cannot know
so i will sit here and weep for a lost nation

with knees pressed against the scraper.