Sally

 

I'm not sure you can staple this. 

  Apathy leaks of a cracked chest, 

Looking down, dull and no pain. 

  I have to configure an escape. 

Perhaps an after hours walk, 

  In the first rain.  

  Perhaps a couple long hours 

Getting lost where it feels safe. 

  Everyone is asleep. 

The rain has trudged a silence now only of distant airplanes. 

  No other, things stir. 

And the damp of everything, 

and the night 

  Taste like nostalgia. 

   The wet leaves of the tall trees are sweet. 

The asphalt still smells. 

  The memories dwell, ebbing 

      In and out. 

  Almost no thing stuck. 

At all. 

  Accept for me here. 

Accept for mama. 

  Here. 

  Life has circled me back to the same street. 

Just as naked and without a thing 

     As the day I was born

Cloaked however in 40 years

    Of Nothings. 

 The staples are messy. 

Falling out and angled. 

  But the leak is less. 

  The breeze is better. 

 and the red drips behind-

  A trail;

    When I had no intention...

Of coming back.