One Boy Allowed Poem by Angela Dodge

lately i giggle as i find myself
with my notebook
(the electronic kind)
literally under the covers
blanket over my head
with the tiny fresh-air hole
(fresh-air holes are a must)
and cartoons on the live streaming
tv/internet
(things that are like astronaut food
was when i was 6)

i can stay under there for hours
escape
retreat
dissolve
regroup
absorb
repair
write
think
be

i am in the middle of extrovert and introvert

i want to be extrovertedly-introverted
with just you

wanna come in my fort?