I arrive under the limelight
through the front door
in Amish attire
as they flutter under shadows
through the backdoor
like panicked roaches.

Their sheen platinum hair and jungle of twinkling jewelry
reflect their lavishly grinning ivories and provocative delights
but not my inquisitive eyes
as they and the euphoria and the lights drag
closely behind and fade
from my reach.

Even if they didn’t see me,
I’m still alone, isolated in this place.
My own humidity warms my blood
and blurs my vision
as I mend my wounds
with injurious spirits.


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