Letters From Nowhere

Monday, July 24, 2006

Flight of the Mink

Life behind silvery stripes colours my world;
They are embedded,
Not in the ground -
The fabled cool wet earth -
But in my still-beating heart,
Given to me with a promise
That no one could cage it.
And so they can't -
I am still free in my head.

Around and around and around again;
No, I think it will never end
Until the lights begin to dim
And I sleep once more.
Dreams assauge the chill of monotony,
A cold wire cage and the whirr of electronics
Seething a soft drone in the silence of my life;
No one speaks here.
Not even me.

Here's a minute of mental clarity;
Among the days and nights of solitude,
One must take them when one can.
I run my tongue over the soft brown fur
That constitutes my body;
My truest cage,
And one that will never leave me
Until he comes to rip it away.
If I had no body,
I think I could run free in the air
That smells so enticing
From the prison of someone unconvicted of a crime.

And in the dimmer light of one night,
The door opens,
And I see the mythical moon for the first time.
Silhouettes move through the entrance
But there is more than one this time;
Death works solo only,
Taking prisoners one by one from their cells
And stripping their skin away
To lay bare their only sin -
The greatest one of all -
To be born with what others want.

Strange black-furred hands unlock my cage door
And though I try to stay away,
They wrap around me
And carry me gently away to the light of the moon
To set me down
Where I feel for the first time
Soft wet earth and grass,
And taste the dish that every person hungers for -
Freedom!

Without looking back,
I run as far and fast as I can...

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