Staring into oblivion at your own expense.
Carrying on, in combat with yourself.
Control, the stiff, jagged elephant on stilts.
Become the raggedy chest of drawers.
Or the woman with the meat, propped up on her crutches.
Dangle your offering before the world.
You aspire to run out of view, then hide for none to seek.
Glued within your migrant way, and the subtlety of sitting tight.
No one speaks of admiration:
Honest hands of youth.
Abundance, a home in your heart, has to offer.
Open up, tilt her over, let those drawers spill out onto the floor.
Combust, Giraffe, so everyone can see!
Rather, they'd watch clocks melt on the walls until daylight has run out.
Then find a candle flicker in the blackness of the ticking.
See its light glitter for a moment, dull out, then extinguish.
Blinded, awaiting the anxiety, of another's exclusion.
