How Spring is Ruined in the City 

26Screen Shot 05-06-15 at 03.27 AM

How Spring is Ruined in the City

I find I am more vulnerable than ever
Even if I am more insensitive than before
I come naked into the world ready
We are all naked essentially bare

To the new day, like a body of a soul-within
I am sheltered and I avoid too
Much stimulation, but this leaves me
Essentially impressionable, a metamorphosis

For the right person, essentially mutable
The lips of my soul hoping the world
Would kiss me, though it happens
So so rarely, I am nearly anonymous

I am so introverted I feel mute or
My body attempts identification with autism
I am so attentive to the beauty of the world
And yet so unable, I’m in awe of the failure

Of my inability to access it, to communicate
With these beings all around me, it is normal
To feel this way, I am a transparency of a clumsy spring
That knows summer will leave me empty

The fragrance of newness hopes for new friends
Or a distinct seduction of the spring itself
Wishing flowers would point to my direction
And a promise of a smile might bathe me

In its glow, I feel left out of these celebrations
I don’t have children, I don’t have the touch
Of novelty, or, stuttering pearls that sensualize existence
I am vulnerable and numb from too little contact

Clumsy in the brightness of my own being
Spring is not regulated and she isn’t told
How much I wish to kiss the Spring that comes and goes
Like youth or a woman we cannot have
It’s slender and has no need for reciprocity.

2 thoughts on “How Spring is Ruined in the City 

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