I want to know

what people

see with their

eyes and other

things. I want to know 

what stays behind the

eyes, in the circling space

and what gets washed down

with the milk —

what’s your

calcium intake? How bout’

sugar? I want to know if you 

feel the need to find

a lock 

to fit your key, a full puzzle

missing your piece, or do you

want to start your own puzzle?

Or are you a rock on the beach

listening to the sound of sand? Or

are you a pulsing wave? A jungle

cat? Purple, orange, green?

Some color in between? And do

you know what that all means? Tell

me what you like about your day

and what’s the thorn stuck

in your toe. What taste could

always linger on your tongue? Or would

you rather touch? Watch? Smell?

 

I want to know

what you want to 

know. And please,

want to know

something about

me, for I’d

love to trade asking —

my favorite game, you see.

To keep my mind in check

from gobbling yours instead —

to binge and purge comes

naturally to me, you see

and I know why if you’d

like to know why, but what

about you? How many times

have you woken to self-loathing

for you ate your roommates take

-out pancakes, still warm because

you waited for the moment

he was was finished, and who

orders take-out pancakes anyways?

And also it’s ok

for he spilled hooka in the pantry --

holding only walnuts --

spilled hooka

cross’ the stove too. I’m sorry

this was sposed’ to be

about you.

 

Do you eat

three meals a day? Ever ground

62 cents of nut butter at Whole Foods

and eat it with a fork for lunch? Ok

your turn, doll

And tell it

all, don’t

feel small

as I do

when

I don’t

say what

I’d

like to

know

and please --

​

don’t go