"perhaps this is what they meant by original sin, i thought"

this issue of liberty
occurs to me most,
(every time, really)
I emerge from the bellows
of underground tracks,
coming back from a home
where no one walks in on one another.
a home that values liberty -
- we had no curfew -
we were kept together by
the boundaries of propriety.

I emerge from the bellows into the
celestial overhead of the station.
every time with knees buckling,
my faint heart,
always ready to collapse at the oyster bar,
in the secret corner where
one can hear your whispers.
these days it hurts to raise my voice,
makes me tremble,
haunts my nerves,
shakes my ribs,
brings flowing tears.
when my loudest screams did not
stop you from opening my closed doors,
walking in on me: nude,
covered in self protection.

it happens here, every time
i scan for your face.
forgetting, every time,
that you no longer spend
your days pacing back & forth in the lobby
to and fro
to get your lunch
where i used to meet you.

the issue of liberty occurs to me
when i step out into the street
wondering when the golden starts will
be something to stand in awe once again.