I know a guy who sees the world
through rose-colored glasses.
In quite a literal fashion.
I think the world sees me
through x-ray goggles, or an MRI scan.
Defying my right to wear skin.
I'd rather they think me impervious.
I'd rather I thought me impervious.
If only I'd been impervious
when I first seduced destruction.
I've never been shy of flying
but now the noise of machines
makes my stomach heave
and long for the ground 'neath my feet.
My meaning needs liberation
or even a weekend vacation
I'm so sick of this form, of its wanting
when what I ought to be is grateful.
Shameful.
goddamn these winters linger.
