The peeping tom
has taken up
running or biking
whatever it is
that requires
two-piece spandex
body suits
and frequenting
my coffee shop
since I moved.
—
when I feel
his eyes on me
staring
as I sit at
my table,
or staring
as I enter
from a walk;
I would rather
take an
orangepeeler
to my skin,
leatherworking
an abaya from
my own flesh
then be
seen.
the plant
extended itself
just slightly
towards the sun
to motion,
“hey, I
need more.”
maybe we all
have a way
of doing that
whether
cognizant
of our own
movement
or not.
—
a centipede
flew down from
the wood awning
fearlessly
then skittered
across
floor boards
in pursuit
of destination
building crevice
[pretending
it knew
just
where it
was going]
maybe
we all
do that
too.
last night
i visited
an empty
version
of my
apartment,
where the walls
were lined with
of shelved
burning candles.
i was translucent;
the everything
and nothing of me.
i walked outside,
testing this
newfound form
by possessing
a woman’s body.
—
but,you still
recognized me.
we wandered
through town,
made out
publicly,
and nobody
batted
an eye.
—
I understand
Now.
We were
On
Limited-time
Subscription
Your park
is closed.
Indefinitely.
But
Here i am
Still
walking
Around
Your
outsides
Trying to
Peek
through
Into you
I know
you
Are
in there.
Behind
the chains
And the
Padlocked
gates
Sad man
In my
coffee-shop
Everything
Is off
In
you
now.
You have
gone home.
There is
no
more
fun
to be had.
—
—
