You are right, like always.
I will not take one other step without said approval.
I only want to be on your road but look and see –
you haven’t invited me – so I float and scamper
saying this and that, trying to get your attention,
and the attention of the good and somber trees,
of war-time gravestones – sit up and look at me!
Look how hard I am trying not to be a casualty.
It’s always been easy for me. Easy to ruin, lock lips
with bones and fade away – shoplifting sex, burying hatchets.
Easy to be the hurricane, not the stripped sail, the rotten meat,
the ruined life. I fly like chaos because I look like a beautiful
crashing. It’s safely landing which confounds my little brain.
It’s love shared in a calm manner that makes my skin crawl
with the ants I imported just for these occasions.
They keep their stingers out, always on defense.