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)