Scarves

Freedom
Her brown, patterned scarf
Indiscriminate
Covered
Among us

Her skin
Holding her bones in
Keeping us out

Crowded

You're a crowded cave
There's nothing right between us
Why am I waiting

Flowing

I don't own any poetry
For these
Anymore

No longer
Do I pull apart their ribs
And climb into their heart

The best of me
Flowed freely
Mixed with too much rain
Washed down the mountain

Now both of us are clean
But so far away