I live in a world
where feathers are
signs from a
home that you
nest in
out of the corner
of your eye
-
and
smoke rings
must be caught
and cherished
-
the other place
where honeysuckle
fills the air in a
euphoric burst
of belonging
-
the place where
the edges are
soft and sounds
do not grate
-
I would live here
forever, but I
must return,
and leave Him
-
always, always
trapped between,
anchored in
two worlds