Autumn, Part 1
I reread a chat
Log, from three years back – I was
Searching for something and I found
Myself: stood as vulnerable and bare
It is like seeing
Your parents having sex you know
It must have happened at least
Once but suddenly it is more than
A process, it has become an
There is something like a horror
Film inevitability to it – I wanted
To lead her away to teach her how
To curl her back like an armadillo but
It is already too late.
Autumn, Part 2
I once started
Crying because of an argument
Someone else was having.
I thought that if I became
Scarred at the edges I could some
Day become as hard as rubber.
That strange sensitivity,
The sound of my blood desperate
To move elsewhere.
Almost a year has passed.