post op

what a strange thought-
we'll never betray ourselves again

to keep each other alive

narcissus, hourglass-bound.

take this language, take all language

and unwind it to the first word

you've ever said to someone you loved

moon at dawn, crying on the streets

where the past still lingers, open and dangerous, a crime scene

closed before investigation

i'm getting clumsy. this is the language

of disguise-

i'm growing too opaque

to hide in plain sight