I fold my arms, I fold the origami
I make myself a star
I cringe each time I hear my name
spoken in that sharp tone
the edges of my origami are soft
patterned by the rain
the edge of a flower
dropping and drooping
laid across the lawn
with tiny sparkling water circles
strewn about like galaxies
across the canvas of muted color
I walk on the sidewalks of Rogers Park
each path a new destination
each garden a new world