mine

i once wrote down,
with a navy rolly ink pen and a cheap
hard covered blue and yellow notebook,
the cryptic fortune telling past i laid out
with kissing and missing,
loving and hugging,
but a heart that echoed
and a head that toppled
over and over.

things changed.

[i still miss
the quiet of
ears under water
but nose above
with eyes closed
and the sun
lighting the scene behind
my lids.]

i wrote them
to remember
the reality of the past,
and forget momentarily
the new reality i had to face.

[i now long
to move swiftly,
as a blur through the night,
a fluid stream of motion
weaving light through the dense dark.]

i listened to the xx
and wondered
how boundaries are created,
and why nothing seems to happen when they are
crossed.

[i want to be far
and quiet,
these days,
rummaging behind a serene face
for reasons why
my face or body
is an invitation
for violation.]

i and i alone
reign over
this skin.

i sweat through it,
trail my nails over it,
lather it in bubbles and soak it in water,
tickle it with cotton and silk,
paint it wild colors,
scratch and skid it in tumultuous adventures,
and warm it with the sun's soft rays.

it's mine,
i've had it for years
and looking at it, touching it, and grabbing it
as often as you like,
will never make it yours.

my skin is not coming off,
you can pull it as close as you want,
tugging it towards you,
unknowingly scratching its surface,
but it's here to stay
as my eternal constituency,

for this kingdom has come.
my toes stand as bricks,
my hair waves as a flag,
my fists wait as moats,
and my eyes
guide-with ferocity-
the steady two-step
of my two
birkenstock clad
soldiers.

DLS