Zelda
I’m looking for him in shapes and sounds
as often as I’m looking for myself in them.
I’m hunting for truth,
like every human out there.
The truth is not dressed fully.
The truth wears a loincloth.
The truth is rugged.
The truth is uncivilized.
The truth is a caveperson, like me.
The truth has been nowhere.
It has seen nothing and done nothing.
Lies are different.
Lies wear corsets, bonnets,
powdered wigs that take forever to put on.
We can handle lies.
We can handle being over-clothed and hidden.
What is true is also naked
and we shudder upon seeing it.
That green light.
What if it was before us?
He wouldn’t stare at a green light
and give me a single thought.
If he saw a green light at night,
he would think, “It’s the aliens.
They’ve come for me.”
I’m trying not to overthink a light on some dock,
but I am.
I am far too focused on lights.
Humans lie to themselves.
They make their lives complex.
The truth, on the other hand, is simple.
I can see a certain person in every shape and sound.
I can see him, even in a green light.
This person doesn’t see me in anything.
It’s the stark naked truth.
I shudder upon seeing it.