Man entered flowers, tattoos, piecings,
sat on the stairs staring out smelling of wet grass and rain. Leaf on his head.
Yellow, couldn’t say anything, brown spots, small, birch, nature, wild, how, in the dirt, I don’t know.
How fragile are we sting, to be stung by a sudden wasp in the hair
when you touched your hair, didn’t know what, to be stung, sting, hit.
Anger in fists, in small beings, staring outside scared.