Wanting to be Found

Cautiously turning pages of scripted verse

Yellowed pages absorbed in ink leaking

Their pearls

My eyes connect and

Understand its pernicious unraveling

I shed my clothes

They bind me

Pinching my thickening waist and tugging at

Dimpled Thighs straining tightly

Unrestricted

I turn my pages languorously

I am crazed like the spider web glaze

Of my tea pot

And slightly chipped

Like my rough spun clay mug

I cup tart liquid

Steaming up my nostrils

Sipping and

Pondering all the

Ways I could change

Or reverse

Or Charge my course

Inside

Outside

All sides

Muffled in lost wanting

I have denied such meanderings

Un-coiling and re-coiling the rivets of my

Salting hair

Recanting evaporated memories of

Shameless youth that knew nothing

Not even in this

My silent moment between the

Inky cuts of profound insight

I lay wanting to be found

Shamelessly as in my youth between these lines

Of spilled brew

Stained

On yellowed pages