what is this thing
that changes us from within
like some unseen season
that sweeps us away unaware
too late to know what to do
but to fight fruitlessly
or fall free to its gruesome strength
and be carried away
to who knows where?

it could be life
or sour circumstance
twisting us til our bones break
to force us into to new
and ungainly shapes;

but i would hide from it all
lock the doors and black the windows
to sit quiet and motionless
in the invisible safety of the dark
if only the walls were strong enough
to keep out the grasping hands
to keep out the fishing hooks
that would tear me from my shell
as a mollusk ripped into the sun
to die writhing in the heat.

there is no safe place
no house or secret skull
within which to find refuge
there is only exposure,
cold and hungry and electric
undying exposure.