I have my books my records
my half written poems
I have this blue window
to look through when
I’m lonely
from this place I can see
the sun smiling
I know it will rise and fall
religiously so I ignore
its invitation
maybe I’ll feel better
in a new morning
less wounded less detached
less strange
maybe this battle in my voice
will fade into a soft belief
I search for words that will
hold you for a while
then let you slip
words like truth
like love
like the breath of a
thousand stories
like any other
untouchable thing …
Clay.M