with the moon held high
on Tuxedo Rd.,
I pranced through the park
after laughing
with old ladies.
even I didn't know
how I made it
out alive,
just in time.
making love to myself
in a bed buried behind
the middle,
my heart is wayward
like a city of memory.
wondering where I belong
when the cars fill the bag,
and moving on to something new
never worked.
at the airport,
I remember I
screamed like an oyster,
silently.