But I want
I want to dig
Dig through the five feet of concrete that leads to the water lines
The sewer lines
The water pipes filled with alligators, giant rats
Old tin cans
Dig past the lost cities
Through the core
And find you, upside down.
Walking with thousands of slanted eyes
Dark coarse hair
See if in your eyes you see my reflection
Like I see yours.
I want to see you, speak to you, know you.
But you aren’t there.
It is you, upside down.
It is you, topsy turvy
I can reach your feet, your calves, your hips and touch them gently
Like a child’s hands might.
But still, you aren’t there.
My arms, dirt, mud, sewer covered slip and I climb.
Claw back through the water piping, swat at the tin cans and alligators.
Ignore the lost cities.