By Elizabeth Noel
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I don’t know if fight or flight should be my response. I’m sorry Arizona fits my taste, instead of Daniel, which others prefer. I’m sorry for acknowledging you when others drew shades across their face. I’m sorry for the compliment when an insult was warranted. I’m sorry for being prompt, but that’s how I was raised. I’m sorry for going right when the world goes left. I’m sorry for beating the drum too hard. Or not hard enough. Or, dare I say, somewhere in between. That was an accident. I’m sorry black is the only shade I know. I’m sorry my coco isn’t cream. I’m sorry my kinks aren’t straight. I’m sorry the snow shatters. I’m sorry I can’t go. I’m sorry sharp isn’t sharp. I’m sorry I don’t agree. I’m sorry the ocean’s a vapor. I’m sorry for breathing and
