i

i did not come for you

chewing on beauty
i do not exhale

for you

strokes of desire
spurned into these letters

they were not written

for you

walking, wind all over me
pooling down around my ankles
licking my feet

i did not come

narrowly surrendered,
decorated in metal–

did not walk down hot sand paths

for you

impressive selfishness
i came alone

grasping after leaves,
fiddling with grandeur

hands grappling with mystery–
clutching pencils and pens

is there something to quantify?

walking in red, spring breeze
hair blowing wild
feet covered in wind,
my hands are dirty

and they do not reach

for you