today they may wonder
about the small crease in my lips
that are dark red
with a tinge of grey
where the wind has chapped them
rubbing rubbing away as though
to scrub them off my face
some stain that is stubborn
and so it wets its finger
and scrubs harder
till at last i pull away in protest
flared eyes against the indignity
people are watching
and it is ridiculous
how abandoned i feel
when the wind sweeps away
in a regal storm of disapproval
how i feel alone
in the sudden stillness
and wish to crawl into something
anything
that would give me form
or identity that too
but still i keep walking
carrying instead my secrets
salty on my tongue
they may wonder at that tight crease
kept heavy by these ivory weights
This stain will not go away
but i, indomitable, will keep it silent.
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