Worries

am i worried when

your skin from this close sets the focal length off?
or the clove burns your tongue?
when people see,
look back,
think, cast aspersions,
gossip?
when the tint in the glass is not enough
to hide my desperation
in cheap thrills,
a slight touch?

am i worried when

strong wishes of floods--
sweeping us off like a nine-year-old cleaning a bored chessboard---
come crowd my mind and dreams?

am i worried the world will end?
of the world order and bored colleagues?

or critics who rant, having achieved nothing?

is my soul covered if Citylights again
swells me up in sobs?