This is how it is
confined, to the skin
of an animal, defined
before you've discovered
the trickery of language

We perform ourselves,
daily, interpreting
protocol, natures first
attempt, succeeded.

An in for an out,
we are instruments
that fills a void,
like lightening.

Hot rushes cold;
fullness fills the empty
vacuum. This is
biblical accuracy,
biology stands balanced.

Somehow, however,
on this subway platform,
I feel cheated, left
to this skin, suffocated
in language that existed
before I could speak.

04/19/2007

Posted on 04/20/2007
Copyright © 2024 Angela Cotterman