Windswept/ On The Inside - Analecta 

She turns her focus 
to indigo 
and ultramarine, the 
watery greens and purple shadows 
she needs 
to paint a perfect picture 
when he wakes with a start: 
"Did l sleep?"-
H is face navigating 
her face, 
his hair listing 
stiffly at half-mast. 

And with that random 
gust she feels the outland ish tug, 
the pitch and roll of vu lnerabilities 
that work the line, 
scuttling the flags, lifting the rigging­
to break free 
like a ship in full sail. 

LATELY I'M CONFUSED, 
MY MIND GETS RECYCLED AND REUSED, 
THINKING OF ALL THE TIMES, 
I'VE BEEN NEGLECTED OR ABUSED, 
THINKING OF ALL THE PAIN AND THE HURT, 
ALL THE TIMES I'VE BEEN TREATED LIKE DIRT, 
CONSTANTLY SEARCHING FOR A CURE, 
TO CURE ME OF THIS AILMENT, 
ONLY TO REACH A STALEMATE, 
MY SHOULDERS CARRY HEAVY WEIGHT, 
IT TENDS TO WEAR ME DOWN, 
I CAN BEARLY WAIT, 
FOR THE WEIGHT TO TEAR ME DOWN, 
SO I CAN SEE, WHO I AM, 
AND WHAT I'LL BE, 
ON THE INSIDE ... 

On The Inside 
By Mark Ulfig 

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