In my chair, leaning back
Thinking of all the things I lack...

IT creeps inside...
...And then lies dormant...

In the corner of the room
Sits a boy upon a stool...

I can do many things
I can eat...

On a pedestal perches a penitent soul
In front of an imposing multitude of people...

He is so much like a sky
Big, bright, and open...

"You're beautiful. Don't let anyone ever tell...
Objections, darkly subjective and brutal, caught...

I look down at myself
Lying on the floor...

"Hey beautiful," he said
I asked if he was talking to me...

The breath of the trees runs through my lungs
The silence of the wood strengthens my bones...

Meandering
Nowhere to go really...

Henry hurried toward the hot oven. Hurting his...
He had his hot oven-mitt on the hard floor in the...