I am your private laureate
Your wrench connection
Your lonely tribeless shaman
Your wild hair
Your golden mean
Your bright red dread extreme.
I am your monster of your edges
The shadow of your light
The dancer on your grave
The empathic singer of your very precious plight.
I am the sparkling morning meadow
Sacrifice Time’s children
to concrete, glass, and asphalt.
I am the itch you can’t find yet to scratch
The rule for which there are no laws
The missing metaphor that haunts your dreams
The spirit you can’t define.
I love you more than you can know
and I shall be the death of you.
No matter what you do
I am very you.