shut the front door

feelings like thoughts 

exist spatially

in a clouded ether 

a bubble hovering 

in the sky past my reach

exactly where I put them 

Birdie Bonita

if I am quiet

cold distant 

on the runnings

of the world 

no care voiced

I don’t feel?

I feel too much!

too long I gave 

my days my nights 

my life; hours

of sleep to others

in the dying light 

let me live

simply existing 

amidst joy,

four paws and wet kisses 

for a moment there I thought I saw something

dry sky-blue cold turns

into wet but warmer 

and everything is damp 

maybe I HAVE lived

tightly on the edge of

a mild depression; 

give me the sun and

heat to sear white

hot flesh to bronze

I will give you 

a cold heart melting