Stranger

In public
I am the walking quiet
of transparent air.

I huddle
humid and torrid
behind pages of my past.

Night will speak
to me. I am couched
in her embrace.

But when I return
to people, I reek
of her dank air.

I avoid getting saved,
the safety of solutions.

My heart attack is
failure under scrutiny,
reaching the world like
an actor of lost languages.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace