Muffle

Muffle 4/17

The sun hits my face and
it is warm and good and breaks
a sweat across my forehead

I am walking Brooklyn and
everyone is wearing light

What is moving inside my head
is the sound of children on
the playground the sound of
buses exhausting on 7th avenue

The desire to throw everything
down run naked into the first
store I see and scream
about the loss I feel inside
is overwhelming but denied

The loss is only in my head anyway