estranged
estranged, entangled wrens and
tan gulls and
language trapped in
bell towers, underground tunnels, and above my tongue banging
against my mouth's dark dome.
what is this false sky affixed to high beams?
what is this barrier between
this bare naked soul and anyone listening?
homeless pigeons weakening, perhaps there never was a "why"
for time between the double paned
storm window, jagged entrance gained,
wings wildly wide
then hardened,
frozen in bare baked flight before so many
passers by, is anyone seeing?
i see
and i want
want to tell them about ...
but i can't tell them
about ...
because i can't find the way out either.
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