what you choose it bound to
your skin
spooled tightly around
your ankles
gray and black rivulets
tight rope on the ground
walking straight, walking clean
watch your feet or you might
fall on to the
wrong path one where
men wave their thumbs at you on
the highway
while you swerve and
bend no tightrope
no
haywire haze on your
window shield
your parents want you to
pick up pieces of cloud
bring them back to
their aching heels
curved around the coils of
gray and black.
you’ll always wish they
could see how low
your wire is
how close you are to
jumping down and resting
your feet a while
maybe it’s time they
get themselves a thicker piece of land.