Each item must be chosen carefully;
each sock potentially can actuate
its rotors of familiarity,
disgorging pre-thought patterns that don’t wait
to be justified.  I am simplified.
'Denied my full identity,' I cried.

Each guest who enters in my consciousness
sets unknown fences of boundaries I am not
aware.  So when I step over the duress
of conformity, I mar the safe; they blot
me out with silence.  'I am simplified,
denied my full identity,' I cried.

Each dusk, in prayer, I touch gold air and breathe
wet fire.  I swim in land and walk on water.
Sometimes, I hear a fading, broken wreath
of light and rain.  Once, a dove fell, I caught her.
She rested and sighed, 'I am simplified,
denied my full identity.'  I cried.

-Tsai