acraein

I have always been in debt.
And capybara social circles
dance around my silhouette.
A struggle once internal
now a grand battement.

Standing on the line with friends
all alone inside our clothes
splicing leaves onto clover stems.
Then I sit down and pop my toes,
stand up and try my luck again.

Breathe to find what I forgot.
It doesn't seem that clean to me,
tea spilling from the coffee pot.
I grab a rag and drag and sing
that misplaced song my mother taught.

I love your smile on a good day.
I muss your hair when you're asleep.
Oh my God are you like me.
Let me sit while you paint the scene.

Wanna fight? No, I'm not keen.
God of fire brings a steel beam.
Thunder always follows lighting.
Counting tremors like they're sardines.

No, hug me back I need to know.
I know, I know, I'm so verbose.
And you are fire, throw fist kick toes.
Accidental school like old crows.

When we rescind and reconcile 
and settle down with camomile 
I talk again, you nod and smile.
I clip a crow, it walks a mile.

Sharp pencil
blocking out body shape.
Angular, ragged little tinsel.
Sudden move, pin finds groove,
transform, rewind tape.

A moment 
a hair away from magical.
Expertise, seen it, sonnet, sewn it.
From awe to rage, the takeaway
biographical.

I love when 
eviceration brings
selflessness and me to knees and then,
open eyes, world is wide
again. So I sing.