a previous version of someone is laying, dismembered, partial, and half decaying, splayed on cool blue tiles of the subway floor. they took what they wanted, discarded the rest, and I, the mimic, see my chance. a thing to be is here presented, red adornments hung from its torn edges, with split white bone protruding where it may. pulled to pool in small alcove, the taste I take confirms my nose in allegations of sumptuous viscera half-spoil'd. slipping in like all the priors, testing all the minute fibers, this one will serve me nicely for a while. and so i board the subway car, now adorned with foreign scars, manners thieve'd, thoughts surging, not all mine. I live out lives with stolen stumble, someone else’s moves and mumbles, in seas of people struggling to be seen.
and I'm going to have to be ok with that, I guess












