The potential is sunrise & I refuse
the window’s jewels

I scalp the earth
for my own voice

I feel full of shining & sun
& so, money. I am envy &

the clock, gales of fingers
no longer keeping time,

rustling through my formal shirts,
wondering which will suit me best–

whichever will shatter
my edges & begin

at the origin of roses, from where
they were abandoned

& wonder,
the why I’d never give.

 

(originally published in Light: A Journal of Photography and Poetry, Summer 2017)