Lock, Lull, Stop, Frisk, Refresh

The layers of security
Ancient hand signs
Professing clearance

But at each gate
A new beginning

Another place to drop bags
Bags like stories
Stories like road signs
Road signs like symbols
Not like, road signs and symbols
Not the same
But for these purposes
Symbols like torture
Torture like telling your story again
Story like painful burns
Burns like lines pressed into skin
Lines in skin like indentations
Not like, lines in skin are indentations
Indentations from bags
Bags at the gate
Dropped for a moment
Picked up

Bags picked up again and again
Dragged across the threshold
Thresholds to new rooms
New rooms through new doors
New doors as opposed to new gates
New gates for new stories
New stories not existing
But tiring out
And wearing down
Then making the ending new

New hand signs
New security clearance
New guards at the gate
Knowledge of presence
Presence unknown
Under strict supervision
Strict clearance
Your story will change
Your story has changed
Your story is not your story
It is a bag
A bag you can leave behind
Perhaps exchange for another bag
Making the switch
Without knowing the consequences
Without security clearance
Unknown at the gate
Looks become suspect
Suspect becomes apprehensive
Suspect apprehended
Suspect in custody
Not the story you told us
Professing innocence
Not remembering the hand signs
Your bags are safe
So you are saying these are your bags
What's the real story
Stories like assholes
Assholes not needing stories
Tell us your name
Again
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4.22.13