SONNET

 

Terror, terror, terror!  I am undone.
Unreason, ill-fated season, terror.
What brings this black vapour unto the sun
These clothes no longer protect the wearer
I shun them, I shed them -- naked, I lay
Clothed only in strange fibres of my fear
I am open to the elements, pray
I will be protected; my Lord is near.
I fling, I flail, I scratch out at my skin
I am ready to burst from this disguise
My skin is not me, I am not so thin!
Awakening, I feel heat on my eyes
   Opening them, I see my body revealed
   Nude, plastic, comforting -- my soul is healed.

 

---jrw 3:58am
4-14-96