finally a freedom

from living under others, carrying houses like a snail.

away from hiding, hearing, hurting:

it’s great to be alone.

un.lonely, not unloved.

not unloveable, not I.

but on a road and on a trail.

happy trails, i’m hearing me.

i throw the un from the window as i roll on,

and lo!

there are those parts others cannot hear,

whispering the secrets i’ve always known,

to my upturned, eager ear.



big news from a little girl

no cobwebs in corners here

only shadows

aspirating in the


our secret’s kept in


slipped under weighty

tables, through

eager fingertips.

nightly surge of unspoken things

cool glance warm


hidden touches on

those dark stairs

laughter from the

warmth below

like cold stars in the sky

we see all from up high

and burn hotly above

where no one can touch our love.