Tuesday, March 03, 2020

Startled Alert

Bawdy Dysphoria
I shame myself when I do see
that mirrored one reflecting me,
for as a girl, I ought not gaze
upon the manhood that there stays
and mocks my real identity.

Some poems come from none-knows-where and hang as puzzles in the air, where friend and foe both learn despair, each one crouched low in loathsome lair . . .



Post a Comment

<< Home