Let’s go back for a second to that lit storefront window
in the center of my brain–all weekend, here’s me: hands
clamped over my mouth trying not to shout about which
colors are in me this season. I shouldn’t be in public like this.
Everyone’s aura sparkles around me & even the nasty,
gloomy parts of all these people shine–I can’t keep
my mouth shut when I really should.
                                                              I’ve never been
able to ingest things that I wouldn’t like the look of
coming back up–why now? Because someone sang
it to me in a pretty voice? I’m face down hog-sucking
in a trough feeding on this feeling. As I drive, the landscape
unfurls like film, the lighting is color-corrected to the
perfect over-saturation as my car sweeps along the road.
I bring opening credit music with my every turn.
I’m learning to live in my body as a sheath & when I say
learning, I mean I’m finding for the first time a different
viewpoint that holds no value except to feed me toxic
humming noises & make my clothes shrink around
my body. It makes me feel like I have mermaid skin
& like I don’t walk, I swim. Every speck of this
feeling is too golden, too sleek, to steeped in
the pleasure of a not-so-perfect past that’s
whispering to me.
                               All of these gazes metastasize
into this glasses tint color I’ve never seen before,
but now it’s my only filter for the world & I’m liking it.
I’m sucking it through a milkshake straw. I’m trying
to fill a swimming pool with it in my gut. I’m trying
to grow gills & fucking live in it, throw the couch in,
get a fridge in there & set up shack. I’m trying to
have the music follow me, I’m trying to dress like
this has always been my life, like this tail & scales
didn’t just sprout out of three or four strange mens’
eyes on me & when I wished one was following me
            I have one last shot at this:
I’ve shed myself. I am myself, but I’m fucking fuchsia
& all the mountains around me are singing for me & all
I want is all of your attention–I mean all of it & I don’t think
I should ever be seen like this.