~unsheltered
I can't translate
the meaning
of how it feels
there is no noun
for that
in slow months of blues
I am evergreen
a desolate tree, pining
its needles, until they
lodge in the throat
like unspoken
verbs
I am sentenced to
the pressure of
holding still
planking flesh to bone
poems pressed into
the softened cartilage of
this heartcage
the hardwood beneath
comforts me
reminds me I can't
fall any farther
lah 5.19.16 ©®
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