From My Perch

Sometimes it feels like they're still there. Ghosts under the skin. Asking me how I think I should feel. Questions at every corner. Ninety or more degrees of decision. Choices I can't make if you give me choices.

We're always alone. Just sometimes someone will let us forget. Rip the petals from that rose and off only the stem.

And there they are like blankets swimming in the sheets. Not knowing where to go. Not certain of the idfference between islands and oceans.

Find ourselves in every audition. It's all a show. The lines on the paper telling me to say what I never would..

I catch their desire at its tail end. And it seems like they could want more.

The fruit so rue. Just wait.

Give it time to fall.

We're still not old enough, but we've always been too young. To know what we almost had.

I'd never be able to sleep if I didn't believe it was right.

What I see from my perch if usual only the end.