it’s miles deeper than me,
this new world.
everyone, save for
earth’s new collection of bodies,
wishing this would please,
please blow over.

leaving your house, i knew
you couldn’t come with me.
thrice-dried leaves clatter
and scrape the street
between mine and yours.

out of your sight,
finally i cried.

the wind froze my dripping
face & i spat venom
at painted women
that passed by,
painted in ways
that i love to paint
myself. not unlike me
at all, really, whose crime
was only to bear the villain’s face:
unbothered.