1/20

baby socks

will i ever be small enough
to fit inside your pocket dimension?
i have been eating from the garbage bin
all week & i discovered a photo album 
of lover on the beach. this is where
it all goes, right? to the stomach
of a wandering monster. i do not wish
i wasn't human. i'm not human.
i don't understand baby socks.
a better use for those little pieces 
of fabric would be to house lost eyes.
once i lost an eye & i had to dig
in the yard for years. finally i unearthed
the little marble only for it turn 
into a prism, catching every rainbow.
now, i see oil spills. i see jellyfish weddings
& festivals of birds. i do understand
wanting to be cradled. i want to go
to the biggest tree i can find
& say, "could you open your arms
for one last time for me." my heart
is a place for bees. honey sick.
the winter will thin me to the width 
of an envelope. don't count on me
to be here when the garbage men come.
we are enemies from a distance.
they remove & i fill & fill. 
in the end, i am the guilty one. 
the one filling baby socks with eyes
& stealing for the smaller planets.
eating the rind of a soured watermelon 
until i am glimmering full
of the fruit's black eyes. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.