i sit in silence
and quiet my thoughts
empty my mind
slow
jumpy beats of my ruby blood
down to a careful throb and clear
my neck and arms and pieces
do nothing but be
sections to make me
into the same as others are
and my toes and fingers are segments
that serve each other to serve me
and really little else
they make me a body that is
average in the sum of
all my average parts
and as i sit
looking at these familiar
portions they seem
not mine
for i find all at once i'm various
and different to the extent of being alien
because i have not
been touched by you
and i'm in shock
i am so brand new
YOU ARE READING
laid
Poetrychick: am i a people? chicken: no, you're a chicken chick: do chickens come from people? chicken: no. chickens come from eggs. chick: are eggs born? chicken: no. eggs are laid chick: are people laid? chicken: some are. others are chicken anyway, the...
