Arab Spring

[Inspired by watching half of The Square, a documentary about Egypt's 2011 revolution.]

I am not a revolutionary.
My feet are not
brave.

Running on dangerous ground,
surefooted because the martyr
welcomes every stumbling spot,
rejoicing in the dirt that
grinds the skin
of the martyr's knees.

I am not
a revolutionary.
I am falling to my knees
in my own bedroom.
When I pitch forward
the maroon carpet burns my face,
rug burn,
a friction burn,
the fibers creating abrasion marks
on my face.

I am not a revolutionary
because I am warm
with bare feet.