Sheet of paper
you lay there
neutral as tap water
you don’t smell like trees
you smell
like boxes
do you see me coming
with your albino eyes
and after I have tattooed you
with a poem about bees
or things to pick up
at the drugstore
do you become the markings on your skin
or are you like the cow
words crawling across your hide
like flies
that you cannot
or choose not
to notice.
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