V south

I have no core
No center
No fidelity
No inside
No am
Touched by the wind I go; touched
by the rain I stop. Her want,
his vision, send me, sculpt me,
imprint me; her vision, his want –
schedule me, clothe me, violate &
sate me.
Touched by the wind I go.
Touched by the rain I stop.
Untouched, I don’t even know I’m
alive.
Deeds are reactions to invasions &
seductions; to reflections of
incapacity, erased by movement &
an armor of words.
Desire in a coin locker in a
station in dream. Left there,
unclaimed, in pitch. My desire.
Untranslatable, ungrammatical, felt as
a gulf, an entrapped depth,
crystal ball-like, in the infalling
length that goes down, on an
angle, through me.