Pale

Pale

an unassimilated life lays out

ghost pale and transparent 

before me, like a specter

i can wave my hand through

so far away i do sit, aside

and askew from the activity

and bustle of those that 

lay claim to me and mine

this calm, it frightens me

oh, to have my heart quicken,

to feel the hair on my arms rise

in response to connection

rather, i sit deep in the pool

of numb quietude,

waiting for someone to

throw me a line