alone

on the streets,
i draw my
coat around
my shivering body
and bury
my chapped hands
in
my empty pockets, and
i squint
at
the people brushing
by, and
i remember
the naïve taste
of wishing to be

alone

on my lips, and
i think
how very different
that feeling
is
from actually being

alone.

(August 8, 1998, 2:30 PM)