every time I leave for my own city I tear off my voice, speak with accent of a different self.  I am younger away from you, a doe, only brave enough to step one foot into sunlight at a time.  a crow, early buds on trees, shadow moving towards me then away, the wind, an echo, even the sound of nothing startles me.  my eyes shift from violet back to dirt.  I close back into a bulb.  haunt sidewalk like shards of tail light.  shimmer through things.  was she really there?  a flicker of white.  retreat.  no answer but absence.