I Wanna See it..

What shape does it take, the wall I build?
Cardboard, flimsy, the stuff of a childhood wonderland,
or cement? Impenetrable, it bruises me
as it did today.
Yellow, blue, and black: the colors of solitude.

I want to bruise it back,
using as many superlative adjectives as I please.
I want to smash that perfume bottle on the jagged rocks
where the land and sea combine
Where the two scents flirt until neither is distinguishable from the other.

I want to sit on that freezing marble slab in the ground,
watch the patterns of the grass, the rebound,
nature's revenge.
I do not want to share a bit of it with you.

The setting sun will ignite you from afar
as you pay a rusted quarter to look through the telescope.
You never were one for living in the present.