Baring myself

I want to be brave. I want to take self-portraits walking down the street, listening to music

– the white cords framing my face –

the sun in my eyes, the blue and palm trees quilling.
I want to send them to you so you remember I exist.
Out there in a world away from you, I exist.
And it’s not raining, it’s not dark,
the sun is a glittering broach pinned on the sky’s crisp shirt.
Warmth would suit you.
The men on the platform ogle my blouse
rubbing me with eyes like they’re polishing stone. Only you know
my paragon is not polished at all. Only you know
I peel hangnails from the outskirts in,
one layer
aired
by one layer at a time

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