Sunday, June 19, 2005

poetry submission

distinct and disjoined
rooted in an ever-changing sense of identity
something that won't sit itself still
won't let me settle into its hollow claims
swaying with the passing wind
and waiting for a storm to break this loose again
ask me who I am,
but I'm asking too
-every breath renews the question
and does its best to prolong the answer
pinning me down with both arms... holding me, keeping...
there's a touch of comfort in not knowing
-but only a touch