“A Literal Reflection”

I heard about you once,
transparent man with iron-pressed pants.
You look familiar,
even though I can see through you.
You follow me on sun-lit days
and lamp-lit nights.
You shine in silver streams
and float in framed photographs.
Now you gaze in glass
and hover in the hues.
Your presence is a comfort,
a clue that I exist.

Doubt reigns in the dark…

-Annah

If I were a carpenter,
With calloused hands
And all to be expected of a man,
Would you still love me?

My grave and allotted soil
Will know only what I provide.
It asks not what I was, or what I am
But only for me to stay.

Am I not like the tree?
Whose limbs lose the burden
Of yesterday’s season, rest,
And birth new form.

The me who has been
Will no longer be.
Freed from the worldly,
I return. Reborn.
Naked, I hold no instruments
Of art nor the tyranny of trade.

I ask only for the breast
To feed me
And the warm comforting calm.

Distance makes hearts fodder,
And we pretend closeness.
You fill your gaps,
And I fill mine.
Your days are my nights,
And my nights are a daze.
Our electric means play childish games
As I mind the seen.