by Samuel De Lemos
I wear lots of clothes,
I try to hide my nakedness—
I sleep with a warm flannel shirt.
I’m not cold anymore.
I run around in cities unsure
of where and who I am?
But, I’m familiar with the streetlights,
the vehicles, the comfort of plush
pillows and quiet talk.
I see the cloudy sky
and the concrete pavement below,
I hear the tic-toc of leather shoes, of
people going to-and-fro.
I clean the facade of a brick castle,
but can’t understand the complexity
of a menial ladder—
to reach the high places
so far above.
I’m overrun by the beauty
behind the pane-glass window,
the view of mountains pristine—
are visions of this world
I wake myself up and reach for your
body, to feel if you’re there,
only my sluggish thoughts—
and the desire to fall back asleep,
to land at that selfsame spot.