vellum

vellum

i was born with a path of skin

measuring itself.

i tumbled into the front row

without tickets, past security,

here. this. have a seat.

we find a stage,

sweltering wounds,

heat and blushing and bandages.

let's speak about skin but also

about paper. with documents 

and dollars, let's talk

prisons, land.

the mystic hears music

and sleeps in

jumpsuits (the color of sun

rise), cold cots with no

one to call.

go.

seriously, go. 

find it,

the answers.

what becomes of this

empty rhetoric, what of this

cold eye yay eye.

i just don't get

it i get it

all

except

there are fences that fall on my hand

as i reach, there are borders

that cross my body at each

blue eye

so crying comes

easily, heaving, it happens

a lot, i will

rise into echoes

overfed or

so small

i disappear

into

we.

you tell me.

for the cracked

brutal landscape of this

world, is my heart?

we
show ourselves

in shiny surfaces

and tiny

paper
cuts

10.9.12