Strangely Dim

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I guess I pity you

Is that okay to say?

I mean, you have these lofty goals

That you will not attain

You have the choice, you know?

On how you use your time

But do feel free

Whittle-away on me

Whose God has crossed The finish line

Lizard Legs

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I look at this skin

I see it, I see hope

Splotchy, yellow-blue at times

Like the shades of a bruise

Slow-moving

At the pace of a lizard’s cool blood

Sometimes

Yet always

Legs to carry it and a thick exterior

To protect it

Should it pain me or try to run

Is all I know to do

Thief

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I know

I am nothing

More

Mere smashed-up, shattered pottery

An impermanent cup, long since buried

Serving as drainage

For your pretty backyard garden flowers

Then when I finally drink

From the cup that is not shattered

The cup that matches yours but is intact

I

See I am the mosaic labyrinth in you

I

The nutrients, light and sweet rain for you

I

The height and beauty of you

I

The reason they wish to pluck you

I

The breath-stealing scent of you