In A Field Of Shaded Glass Poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt

When standing naked
in a field of shaded glass,
ensure you dream silent.

Let nobody borrow
your religion. Instead,
wrap it around you
like a cloak of indifference.

Be totally careful.
Be very much aware!

That the dripping you feel
is not from your soul.

Caress yourself, but only
in a manly fashion. Only
in pretend sort of hug.

Grab the door.
Open the vein.

Is it your blood that becomes
as translucent as a dying sparrow?

Or do you wear the
chain of many colours?

The links of empty doom?

I was sitting at my desk
and the
first thing I thought of
was how blue your skin
will be after the storm.