Dark Clouds
Once I found a coffee shop overlooked by a thousand Others.
Through the glass, a thousand Others I ignored back.
The sky carried dark clouds on its back.
You drew me from my newspaper.
You spoke to your shadow on the street.
You dragged a shredded sleeping bag -- your national flag
A shimmer flickered, a switch flipped.
Head back
mouth open
eyes closed
beenie abandoned behind, you roared with laughter.
The street rumbled under your bellowing.
Silence stayed on my side of the glass.
Beneath overcast sky, downcast Others cast disgust.
How do you cast a shadow in this gloom?
The sky’s back broke.
Others’ judgement rolled off your back with the rain.
Trapped in your head, somehow you escape this world.
Shaking, you cackled uncontrollably,
hair and spit spun a matted mask.
Others wouldn't touch her.
The world couldn't touch her.
I have never seen anyone so free.