I’m thrilled, hot sweat
Searing railroad tracks into my sides.
Their eyes are fixed on me.
What is that deliberately loud scratching noise?
I’m the ego here.
How dare he try to draw attention
away from me,
away from my dangerous light and shadow.
I endure more chicken scratching.
They’re cutting me up.
Slicing the white with boundaries and curves, ogling me.
A million white spheres send fireworks
through a million optic nerves.
This kaleidoscope of attentiveness
focuses on me.
My vision blurs.
I am unique and still, aware of their movements
and jealous of that freedom.
They, in turn, are jealous of the
human rejoicing my limbs embody.
There are many ways to attempt ownership of beauty –
They’ve chosen brain digestion and regurgitation.
Is that guy taking a break?
"No, I’m not interested in photography."
I shake my flank like a horse
at each chirp of the bell,
startled out of my reverie:
my lover had taken up residence
in the background of my thoughts.
I’m swimming in my immobility,
and as I paddle these brain waves,
the prow of my boat rebounds
on unexpected land:
Nagging physical alarm
Shreds into me like hash browns.
It begins to shadow and replace higher thought.
I exhibit my youth to convey information.
Je barbote dans la piscine de mon corps.
I am aware, and still their eyes are open.
In this moment we are one,
simultaneous perception and creation.