Heart to Heart

If it's not my head that's spinning,

then what is it that makes
the mirrors a funhouse?

Andrew dances after class

to a sad tune of creation.

His kicks are a fan

brushing air in a wave

of confliction emotions.

Like the anxiety I felt

in the warmth of my green suede

and the hardness of Daniel's stoop.

I told him my life's

more than you need to bear.

I'm folding towels to low tide-

uncrested tears beating

the banks of my brown eyes.