Attachments

Attachments

Meadows touch me,

seagulls circle singing

yet I’m starless,

they’re not your arms.

I’ve forgotten

my mother’s maiden

name, and wander about

aimlessly in a daze, one

into nothing

equals infinity,

a tired monologue.

I think about the angels

that accompany you. 

When did you say

they’ll let you return?