How Do I Wear My Pain?

This article was published on 02.24.05

It’s a difficult fit;
I’d eat it if I could.

Everywhere and nowhere,
I bump into it.
It has its own odd lodgments.

Exhortations for costumed grief
exhaust me.

Thieves, wanting to steal it,
shoot acid in my heart.

Unarrayed, I stand naked
and wait.