I enter a room after casual explanations. The nature of subtle moments in the chaos of interactions.
Do you mean that glance over the shoulder, the vivid smile of attention?
I am looking for something that I haven’t faced yet,
The chairs creaking in this stencil of a room.
Will you be the next one?
I have promised myself to say ‘yes’,
To be there, wherever that is, where no one else makes it and ‘cancels’,
Like a file in numerous folders, stacked on top of one another.
I get tired of the same question,
Part curious, part accusatory,
Where do I come from?
What are the extra letters I insert in these words while being sober?
Why don’t I smoke weed? If it opens the portal to fractures,
And crackles up with emotion?
Emotion of what. Dot dot d
Do I exist in the writing or speech?
If I can’t speak, does it mean you can’t listen?
Where is my center? I do not know.
I ask. And stay wide open.
In a room full of people.
Other times, a cube in a desert.
Insert meaning here. Loud speakers.
Count. Steps. Stairs.
Will I be the next one?
I know myself so well that
When I am pacing, looking for paper by a dark bus stop,
I find a tissue on the ground, and know it fell out of my bag.
Yellow streetlights hiding.
But if I know myself so well,
Why do I look away as you are talking?
Talking to me?
I look over. Little creature.
Yelling, ‘get out of the fucking bag!
Stop scratching my face.
Stop asking what time it is when you know it’s quarter to midnight,
With your heavy wristwatch.
Stop telling me you are lost, and can’t find home tonight.
You aren’t the only one.
I wake up. Maybe.
Sand, and my toes twitching,
An icon moved over. Click; disappear.
Am I an island?
Are you me?
There is no one else here.
If the decision is mine, then the change is now, I think
If you are the match, will you light up inside me?
And when I see the light over the water,
With the dew on every tiny leaf in this forest,
Waiting and asking, putting marbles in a box full of liquid,
I will Love.
And if nothing else, I will Reach.