Seven feet against the wall
Thrown across the stairwell
My words strike him,
Burning a red mark across his cheeks:
In a sudden rush
of shock
of anguish
spinning in lines
on cold strips of paper
blank or torn
grafted and worn
up to Saturn on disks
ice or earth
up and out
out and across
across the ground
Nope nope nope
Avert, abort, avoid rapport
Don't think just leave it's not worth
anything you think you know, it's not
he's not
like that.
And you know that,
so stop overthinking it all
There's no need to fear.
You'll get used to it here.