Wallflower

How hard can I press on the numbness until I react,

the birds bob and me too,

to the music each person passing into the green distance,

I flower the walls and grow until separation cannot be perceived,

in and on every corner there’s a me,

diving like a duck to find perfect weeds,

satiation never, but plenty of satisfaction,

as I pull my levers and watch the action,

my heart leaps in my seat and I ponder

if anyone could possibly be a miracle in wolves’ clothing,

trying to break free from the molding,

I know the sensual sun lives inside so I stay glued to my swimming pool canoe,

just out of the splash zone;

I want to ask people but awareness drives my inactivity,

a horned up drooling beast in captivity,

put on the record I can’t speak in silence,

a beard grown up by nonviolence,

a quarter to see the birds closer,

isolated, free but always here