And I am changing, too.
I can feel it.
I can feel it in the barometric 
pressure pushing on the liquids
of my skin, glass skin.

And I am alone, my small window soaked 
in drops of dark night rain.

And I am not afraid 
to roam these gatehouse corridors, 
these empty ripples of midsummer
hours, before the daybreak moon.




31 may 01
M Madison