she asked me if I liked anyone.
I said occasionally I do.
and on occasion you are
one of those people.

fifteen minutes of hiding like a meek child
perched in a tree filled with boards and nails.
the smoke wrapped around branches, fell down.
I had no choice but to close my eyes
accepting the rapidly descending calmness.
I've stained my fingertips with invisible scents,
picking up bad habits to feel close to you.

a new technique

I watched my skin expand, erasing goosebumps
brought on by a sudden disdain for clothing.
a familiar tingle spreads up my arms begging
the question what are you going to do about it?
I do not try to make these thoughts leave me,
drown them with distractions, or give in to
their sadistic demands. Instead I calmly say:
You are a child of the Universe,
no less than the trees and the stars.
In the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
Reciting the writing on the wall I carefully
painted and glued in my line of vision.