I hear the clarion call

and run to the window

dressed only in my skin

for all the world to see.

My bovine sister looks askance.

She lives in an opal fog,

and feels like a needle in my eye.

I tell her not all fireflies glow.

Why can’t I be myself and stop acting

like I’m somebody else.

A professional chameleon,

I no longer know who I am.

Acting is fun. I deserve an Oscar.

Being real scares the bejeebers out of me.

I’d like to swim in Ten Mile River

and wash away all my past regrets.

Be a virgin again, and learn to mean it

when I say, No!

Words were always perfect camouflage.

Even best friends only know my silhouette.

I ‘m a social mercenary, a hidden hired gun.

Once in a blue moon I know I want more

than sleeping alone, gorging on licorice,

and sucking my thumb until I fall asleep.

I want to plant a sweet lemon tree

and use my sixth sense

to see my face carved in stone.