Prison, stolen Bible caressed my chest,
whilst other hearts slept in
the archaic stillness of sight or fight.
I can't tell you the number of times I've cried naked
raw and ravaged
in a poor spirit of the dayfilled night.
Compartmentalized freedom:
No one can see me here in the shower,
in bed,
walking down the road,
in the will of the crowds surrounding me with my own
smiles,
in my head
without guile.
no one is here to hear me because of unknown
aloudness
softly
alone where respites
fell.