Wiggle Free

While you were asleep
I took a strand of hair from
your thigh near the hip
to use as a sort of bracelet
in the heat I can't be responsible
for the actions of others. Sometimes,
and I do mean always, there's a
slight embarrassment I feel when the
morning birds make their whereabouts
known with their desperate songs of
indentification, why it's almost as
though they're afraid to be alone
too long without singing here I am,
where the hell are you? It's simply too lonesome
to wear a strand of your hair on my wrist
and sing things from a tree, which could
get me arrested at this hour, and anyway:
my insurance sucks. I've not abandoned all hope
or even you, in fact, it's safe to say
that the world is inhabited with all sorts of people
who are dying for things they can't figure out,
neither can I.