in beautiful, young
Kentucky sheep's skin.
now we communicate in commas
back and forth via blogs
that don't mean much of anything.
i am just a stupid wolf
in green jeans,
trying to fool her hallway and clean her windows.
stand still with me,
be silent and
let that silence be loud.
lenses close
on the stories of the wounded,
red, us.
let's rest our backs
in a burning building,
smiling at the smell.
we were onto something
years ago,
it just breathed away, like an owl.
now it is not much of anything,
just dancing in stanzas,
begging back and forth about who needs more.