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underdog
i remember
swinging
like that was what i was born to do
pumping my little legs so hard
to go higher
and higher
breeze rushes my face
stomach dropping
each time the swing does
summer sweat made my thin,
fuzzy, childlike thighs
stick to that burning, hot, black, rubber seat
thighs pinched the sides
the swing forced me to be knock-kneed
sweaty, sticky palms
smell like the old, rusty metal of the chain handles
where years before
another girl held on tight till her little knuckles turned blue
as her dad gave her an underdog
just like me
