there’s no part of me
that fits anymore
within his
high ceiling
granite countertop
white picket fence
dreams.
For my skin has become
too coarse with sand,
my hair
stands like the spines of a cactus,
my heart
gnaws with the hungry coyotes
my thoughts
swoops around the cliff swallows
my being
expanding with the endless sun;
my wilderness
can no longer be contained
with the confines
of his small soul.
