Things that used to be safe


Things that used to be safe:

pounding smoke from warm asphalt, a body

sucking cloth like a bandage

turned white, turned clear, turned skin.


Holding myself like sand, when

the wind blew from the opposite direction

Touched pieces of me,

that my hands wrapped tight made

my skin forget

what fresh air felt like


a bare thigh plastered on cracked vinyl train seats.

Hands free to

press, on cold veiled windows

move a finger in circles

to draw, not will

my space to shrink