inside me.
I dance in the wind
of my own breath,
examine the mechanics
of the moving parts,
the tangled veins,
and a ****** heart.
I walk down roads
of muscle and bone
looking for something unknown.
I feel my skin sing
of light
of color
(maybe) of you.

I see the world through my own “I’s.”
of “you”
I have no way of knowing.
I might find a “you” if
I search outside myself.
I tried.
But there is an evil
inside me.
It is comfort,
I am happy.
I am