11/25-27
You could be the rivers of the world
and I would watch you slink into the dark green banks
as they slosh with mud on humid autumn afternoons.
Moss flanks all your sides, and at once
you are softened in this light.
I am awake in this light.
I am told that everything I have touched is
a weapon. But I am told that by nobody but myself.
Today, I am awake but there is no light.
When my eyes are burning, there should be
a bright sun beaming through.
Today, my face has fizzled out through the cracks
in the digital dotted matrix.
I have been shivering through hot showers and
endless hallways and
people staring through and around me.
You are stagnant at the edge of the forest, waiting
for the inexplicable tidal wave of comfort
that will never arrive.
We are all spineless
but the bear has no insides.
