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.