you are words
you are tea leaves
sun dried things
and pillow feathers
orange faces and brown arms take you as their own
you were known before you were known to them
us cave people know very little about things beyond our door steps
the sight of you burns straight through our pure white sheets
places that see you, see very little light and bird droppings
but you are smoke
that travels far beyond roof tops and clouds
and give the air an acidic taste
thank you
for who you are