Sunday, July 2, 2017

ex.

division into continents (empowerment). something about

being spotted making faces in response

to the division, and, simultaneously, this

being both a way to mark, and making the shifting in many ways turn out to be a being out
of place.

if she warms up

we suppose it's a volcano

it'll stay warm
or, even get warmer

from now on, once

an equal, an equal
forever.

teach it

why its fragilities
are
the way they are

(mr. potato head)

it'll
turn out to've been just

shy, or
scared, some shit

like that

make it
feel loved, it'll come out

of its shell

(shoes, eyes, smiling mouth, and hat; actual potato)

just

sheltered this whole time.

i am, or, i was, more than
my grasping
to anything apparently soft, which is

an action that makes sense

to ego
who hadn't aged past three years.

more than

stuffed animals, more than
being rescued,

more than isolated refuge in self soothing.

i am being wanting
to be equal.

i devote to
deities

who ensure this
will happen for me

but no
i cover my ears, looking

over my shoulder, to see
if passion gained
from suffering

will happen to be around

as i suspect
it's missing, as opposed

to transformed.
to it now: are you

mad at me, or, more likely, have i been exaggerating

our relationship? can i

show you my hair
and show it to others

without
taking away

sacredness?

to ask that
is to put it out there

that i'm open to

the possibility of feeling
horrified

when i'm not- no,

not without reacting afterward. impulsively

i've
put out fire, or, my happiness, many
times before. i do

things for you, like, shave

my head for robes, as a way
to tell you
i appropriate in ways newly found now. but i

appropriate through my

suspecting
you are missing, that i

consider you to be so-

contradictions, betrayal
still exist to me. religion

changes masks, face

behind it, disappointing.
villains

i am in charge of.