~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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