All of the dumb bare legs and cold-hearted skirts,
stand in silence,
thinking about their own faces.
She winks when she says hello.
The tall group that wore soft cotton
toasted small, blue glasses.
their collars whisper,
'you know you don't belong here.'
each night louder, angrier,
filling caverns in my brain
and slapping my heart with hours .
and outside the snow is soft, dissipating,
slower than music.
Everything is dark and quiet in the brick building
with shadows of chairs
and paper smells,
while all of the weekday sponges
are waiting in line to feel nothing.
I felt alive with the laughing kids,
and when the winter sun played spring for a day,
an inch of the mile of joy that came
on the day I was born, and the day that I died,
When I first breathed you in.