Outside,
I am
looking in the window,
watching life, love, family, friends,
the everything a good home holds.
Pressing cold nose to the glass,
somehow even then
nobody sees me,
no one knows
I’m here.
Blue flames blaze
in the fireplace.
Shadows,
pillows,
beeswax candles,
polished wood and brass,
and
they are stretching hands out,
they are warm,
they, safe as
any one could be inside these fleshy shells.
My breath is wet,
it frosts the pane.
They might have just forgotten me,
forgetting they would have to first
remember.
