dear anna VI

did I ever mention my recurring daydream?

(the one I feed myself to pacify)

I plug my ears with music and imagine

you and I in a car, singing,

going somewhere, anywhere

just moving, free


that is all I want.


I miss being the self that I understood.

Here, muted in color and thought, I am often lost

in my own words, confused. Before

here, I could say things in any language

and rarely be misunderstood

because directness is imperative

when one is only present for a moment at a time.

This frustration of tongue, that

what I mean and what I say can possibly be two different things – i

feel myself slipping,

sinking backwards behind a reality of protocol and what is cool,

swimming in masques of politeness and belonging.