There is no tiresome poem
Where your eyes rest on something
And the mind finds it appealing to its health
The heart however yearns for more
And discipline must make a play for you
Stopping your slow descent
As you digest the skeleton in your rib cage
I have met and desired many
Although little have reciprocated
I am a study in reaction
This makes me wonder
If it angers me
Or challenges my expression
Be I truthful?
Be I a mask?
Be I strong-willed?
Or be myself?
I am made to measure in the gradually sized spoons of domestication
And however much I dream about a sliding door instead of a shower curtain
There are days where I find that not being affordable is a ruse unto my dreams
My desires are not of the world
The journey this child seeks is not a price of a plane ticket
But a long life that seeks to be with life
A tray of warm things
A table of flowers
To wilt and change
A dishcloth
Waiting out in the sun
A rolled up garden hose
A comfortable dream
That aches when it ends