I am the frost
fogging over your glass
creating my own design
and escaping to be free
in a world outside
of your mouth
where I skitter away
only to dissolve into
molecules or a virus
lingering on another’s lips

          you are infectious and
          most times debilitating

I am the refrigerator scum
developing under the grill
where you slide your shoes
to dry after walking in mud,
my sister and mother
long forgotten under my
burden too heavy to be
simply moved
and swept away by your
tool and appendage at hand

          you could be so much were
          you not so very little

I am a shattered glass
on the floor of a restaurant
an accident followed by
facetious applause and
taken care of by worker bees
too busy to notice intricacies
or to develop a method of
reconstruction. no, only
swept up and discarded
so as not to disturb

          you are the wreckage
          none would turn to look at

I am the black swan
regal, floating on a
murky water satisfaction
wishing there were skin
under all these feathers
so when you pluck them
it does not rip and tear
but merely cultivates
pin-pricks of mercury
lining my broken wings

          you merely squawk when
          you could say it all

11/10/2005

Posted on 11/10/2005
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