I just want a guy

to bank-rub my broke

back. Quick wit running

mountains and all that,

lightning streaming but

not deep: I am that.

I just want to try

to be and devote

my Self to and show

him I’m free. He’ll see

my billion unknown

pieces and we’ll flee.

I’m less-than-kind-of

great, cutting keys while

I move, waiting for

proof. Of Life, of Light,

awful flights unmake

social lies made true.