Invasion

Firm is the sandpaper stone beneath me

unlike

the earth.

Structure
surrounds in
rigid lines made of hard
metals and shiny,
frozen panes of

glass

reflecting

the twigs of the trees

that dot the sidewalk.

They are

so different

from the winding timber types

that reach up to grasp a sky

unpolluted.

Structure

surrounds me –

admitting

no winding creek,

            no crawling moss,

                        no scattered rock.

The buildings plummet up,

                        jutting

into that carbon sky.

The crowd and the bustle and the shine of it all

invade me,

disturb me.

While a hundred miles away,

the songbirds sing their

     freedom canticles

and fluttering, fluttering,

     perch on a twig stretched for heaven –

so gentle, not one leaf

     is dislodged from the bark.

One Month, Eight Days

My jacket constricts

my arms the way

that song wraps around

my gut and

    squeezes

the way

I hear it and

close my eyes and

my pillow is all

wet.

It’s cold and my

jacket constricts the way

my Happiness

kills me a little inside

every

time

I see those beautiful

almond eyes.

Stranger #1

How dare you leave traces
of that cologne on me.

I never asked
for forced memory;
How dare you impose that on me.

I never wanted to be
so accessible
so weak
to any fight against your will --

so accessible,
so accessible,

still clinging to the thrill.

My vulnerability, your apathy --

how dare you impose that on me.