“I choose to drift”
– roland barthes
I walk to the side
askew to my direction
a de-centered shuffle
drifting along its edge
too often I snarl
like knots in thread
indecipherable
in my large hands
to be understood
to stitch my tongue
to the patchwork
words I speak to you
requires time to pause
its unrelenting desire
and unfold the obvious
like now in a dull mirror
reflection unloosens
time’s razored focus
lacerating the edges
along my periphery
as each moment slurs
a stumbled lurch
an aphasia between
what I want to say
subtext 