Skimming

We have it all but are allowed nothing.

She saw me skip the surface; heels lightly dusted with other people’s decision.

Telling me always I was light in my body and not grounded.

Vortex in the chest, whirl wind from the scalp.

Well, it took me this long to grow into these boots.

Always a child of the kerb, I couldn’t ever pull my eyes into the centre lane of submission.

Winter wet ground or summer dust, I day dream and float over hills. 

I sit beside the water and skim my stone.


You must understand, they destroyed my ability to settle into what is true.
 
We have it all but are allowed nothing. 

There are only rules for the people who ache and connect.

Everyone else; do what your heart never thought to tell you was noxious.

You now own pieces of daily bad news. 

I don’t want recompense. I claim the right to ignore you bastards. 

Somewhere safe to sit and skim my stone.


These days, there are too many messages telling me who to perform.

But if I look up, I see the cathedral clouds amble by. 

Mindless of their shadowy undersides.

Buzzards, Rooks, human fumes intrude but get no blame. 

Am I ready to walk the rough country of my own domain?

I scatter my attention to the cliché of Ahriman. 

No wonder I’m skimming the surface.