2018.04.28.
I'm Fine
Color of expired hope,odor of a dead star,
like an out-of-tune saxophone
playing smoke from the flame.
A voice pulls me back home,
and another tells me I'm God.
A queen controls me with her gaze,
and eats up my heart with her mind.
I'm fine, if I see you today
or if I hear words that I don't know what they say.
I'm fine, if I see you today
or if the waves are colored brown.
I don't understand blind love
of poems about windmills,
I don't understand the art of being
a domestic bird trying to fit in with the wind.