Things that used to be safe

Poetry

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