I have wanted to be left alone, like you,

have spent my days examining the things

that other people turn away from. I have

turned them over, taken them into my

mouth. I have believed in science, or

in magic potions. I have ignored warnings

about insanity. I have been betrayed, heard

the sirens approaching. I have been

visible only by my footsteps appearing

in fresh snow, by a floating cigarette holder,

by the furniture sinking below my weight.

I have wrapped my skin in bandages,

desperate to be seen. I have stood naked

in the corner of the room, listening.

I have felt the cold in a strange town, the ice

on the soles of my feet. I have run

and felt the bullets. I have fallen and

closed my eyes just as my skin appeared.

___

Ruth Foley lives in Massachusetts, where she teaches English for Wheaton College. Her recent work is appearing or forthcoming in Adanna, The Bellingham Review, Yemassee, and Weave, among others. She also serves as Managing Editor for Cider Press Review.

Posted by Leif. View all posts by Leif
Monday, March 26th, 2012 2:02 pm
Categories: Issue 5.4, Poetry