There has always been a part of me that has stood
Apart.

Like a waxen seal between my friends and me.
between my colleagues and me.
between the world and me.

Or like I’m                                                             out of sync.

Except.

Maybe normal is something you can only see from a distance.
An impressionist painting of humanity.

Or maybe normality grows from within,
Bespoke.

I know a handful of people who also stand          a little apart
But they’re standing here, beside me;
So perhaps we are all, really,
Normal
(Bespoke)

Or, perhaps not.