–
–
In between
you and me
there is thick, black smoke
and gray fog
and still, quieted, dried leaves
clogging up our veins
in our eyes
they are turning red
as if they had worms in them
rotting from the inside
to the outside
we aren’t looking
eye-to-eye
anymore, only waiting
for the eye of the storm
the big black eye
into which we are being consumed
that is bringing the change
we need
our eyes need
I need
before I turn red like blood
before we are sinking into the growing puddles of blood
that formed around our fits
and mouths
with which we were fighting.
–
Raging fire is tearing up the skies
loud and bright
thunder and light
above
and everything below
my feet
I dig them into your belly
deep
my nails I dig into your skin
so deep
so that it hurts
so that you have to look at me
one last time
but you still can’t see
because there’s this cloud
of anger and rage and madness
and when the lightning strokes tear up the darkness
you can see
that I have left
you standing there
alone
wet
and gone
around the corner
to the bus stop
where there’s a hut
with a roof
made of plastic
and no rain.
–
And there I wait
in silence
with rain in my face
and tears
for the storm to pass.
I lie down on the wet ground
press my palms into the ground
to feel the hot earth
that’s throbbing
and pumping again
the hot asphalt is burning my skin
my clothes.
It’s giving me life.
–
I open my tired eyes
and I can’t see
it’s so bright
so bright
the sun
is blinding me
but then I see
the vastness
of the skies
of the universe.
As I stand up
I level my gaze
and match the horizon
and I see
the prairies
villages
cities
the railroads
from the bus stop
I see the distance
and the road to get there.
–
The bus comes,
I hop on,
and I leave
into the distance
with my backpack
and no map
and only memories to remind me where I came from.
–
–
