They cut me like papers
Shut me and my eyelids that
Shiver incessantly, but please
Won’t you hold the door, my
Feminine legs would thank you, and please.
Cut me with stale anecdotes
With stories for ransom
For random rendezvous
And I’m a pair of shoes, I
Protect my skin from chewing floors.
I trust the paper over and over
And over and swayed
On to the side
Changing parts, unscripted ways
Provocative pictures
Sent and not received
Collected sins just like
Gift-wrapped artifacts
On display and never to be seen.
They cut me, with scissors
Sharing my disembodied limbs
Legless, I am, the shoes are no good
But please
Hold me
The door please and thank you.
You
You know? The big U
The binary that defines me
The stupid little secret
The grand mistake
The soul
The rock
The mate
All in me and in a bit of blood
Staining the chair, the frame
That holds the artifact, the rock
The rock I pretend to hold
The papers I cut into you
With my scissors
And thank you.
London, January 27 2012