The Current Isolationism

In the half-light, I am most at home, my shadow as company. When I feel hot, I push a button to make it stop. I mean this stain on my mind I can’t get out. How human I seem. Like modern man, I traffic in extinction. I have a gift. Like an animal, I sustain. A flock of birds when touched, I scatter. I won’t approach until the back is turned. My heart betrays. I confess: I am afraid. How selfish of me. When there’s no one here, I halve the distance between our bodies infinitesimally. In this long passageway, I pose against the wallpaper, dig my heels in, catch the light. In my vision, the back door opens on a garden that is always in bloom. The dogs are chained so they can’t attack like I know they want to. In the next yard over, honeybees swarm and their sound is huge.