Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Notes from/toward SELF-LOVE


Clean shaven man
In a robin egg blue camisole.

I look at him
Looking back at me.
We make a mirror unfold between us.

It’s hard
To see what another
Sees ( let alone say it).

I am you who
For a brief teary moment
Wears a craved camisole.

Truth is
There’s nobody in the mirror.
No Miss on scene.

The scent of hyacinths
Is overwhelming.


He says he’s going
To change his name
To Charlotte because it
Is mostly harlot and that
Appeals to him.

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