Sometimes an overwhelming urge to escape from our mistakes
can come over us so this piece is all about running away.
In
the love of strangers
A half-forgotten candy bar
rests inside
my cupboard shelf next to books
I swear
I never read, next to letters
from absent
friends.
I’ve packed a bag full of
winter clothes,
fur jackets and heavy boots,
I take no photos with me,
they’re too weighty, too much
like carrying a shrine along,
too much like carrying my
memories with me.
The scent of spring is in the
air,
the odor of rain that might one
day fall but
I won’t be waiting by my window
to watch it
strike these trash strewn
streets.
My guilt will not let me lie,
it raids my dreams and leaves its
footprints in my mouth,
it casts its shadow in my tears,
in my frown.
I can’t stay here,
can’t bear to rest my head when
the walls fall down,
I think I’ll take my book of letters,
my faithful compass, and climb inside this
truck on a voyage I must take,
far from seasons, far from roads,
far from the plastic sheen of my telephone.
I’m headed somewhere where the crowds
don’t know me, where the years will pick me
clean and leave me soaking in this sea of sanity,
in the hostile love of strangers.
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