Candied Heels
Location
Maybe I wish I couldn’t sing
so I could choose to be a Queen,
Of a master’d trait I lack, and never knew to be a Jack
I’m staying west to fill this
house that’s not my home:
taking sleep to hold, as if it were my own
and rubbing white of paint, pretending to feel
a blank release, surely time will wound this heal
...and cracks they gather, unbalanced skin
which seal out, instead of in
as callous as the zealot peels,
Impulse like my candied heels
Head drawn down unto the sheet -
a boy of 13 old doth weep
another boy past teen the same
becomes a man, but doesn’t change