DO NOT
Like a horse mid-buck I ask you to say each thing you say again because I am difficult & you are hoary & broad I know that type of plainness I understand what it means to be the broadest the flattest how it’d feel to take a box cutter to your own cheeks & press the stark flesh into rounds that you line neatly across the tabletop like eggs I’d do anything to be delicate you do not mumble I am merely being difficult switching my weight leg to leg I must be a myth or I must be right outside of one, whatever you think it symbolizes to be just over one’s shoulder but also across the lawn like a shepherd laid out on his back eyes juddering under the brim of his cap I know your first name but not how to use it I fear becoming a workbook of victimhood, a panning out & resolving of whirlpool back to steep river or naked my hooves finding purchase in the muck I hope you have never been vulnerable or asleep ever in your life you seem unsure of how next to turn the skewer you understand me as a child or you do not.