Slather tattoos all over your being...
and so I stare at you.
Mostly, I know MY wants and needs,
but yours...my eyes glaze over
as I wonder why on earth you choose
such ugliness?---and call it beauty.
Slave that scooter sovereignly down the aisle...
and so I stare at you.
Mostly, I know MY wants and needs,
but somehow...your empty stare, your silence,
make you seem lonely and afraid, laboring
to reach too far up or too far down.
Malingering, cavorting with pals, on the corners...
and so I stare at you.
Mostly, I know MY wants and needs,
but what is that sheep-i-ness, that fear,
I sense that leaves me distressed,
shrinking from the tombs of your future?
Brokenness convulses my helpless heart:
though mostly I know MY wants and needs
Thursday, May 31, 2018
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