I am summer’s multiple flavors;
white and airy and floating,
black and wet and passionately hungry,
brown and murky and rushing unchallenged.
I am summer in the midst of
the blue lit and dry striking winter.
I am an 80 degree day in late February;
triumphant as an eccentricity of nature,
loved dishonestly and only briefly.
Throughout my hair.
Yellow baby doll tee
Orange polka dot socks
Green pair of panties
On the floor.
I wonder if that is all he sees
In color when he looks at me.
I met him on the corner of Second and Main
One afternoon, walking home from nowhere.
He stood so still, I tried not to stare.
Benjamin Knight, military sniper, code-name Reaper.
In his voice I heard dark rooms filled with secret deserts
And the sound of bones breaking from
The mercenary desolation of subsisting.
But in his eyes I saw the shadows, darker than any nightmare,
Splinter around the dreams he keeps locked away.
I hate to admit that some days I think I’m invisible.
At my core I’m introverted and admittedly
Sometimes I come across as anti-social;
But what else am I to think
When even my imaginary friends
Stop talking to me?