100

Over a beer you say,
“tell me about yourself.”
My first thought was to tell you about
a who, to tell you a name,
to tell you of a time my heart breathed
[swelled and sighed].
That breath is what I am.
I do not wear skin.
I wear names and faces and stories
in scales on my body.
All of those
“I wish I’d known you when I was-”
and the “you have a pretty smile-”
the “when can I see you again”
and the words that sounded quite a bit less
like beginnings (and quite a bit more like endings)
lay on me
not as flesh or clothes but as my color and light.
Because,
I love so deep and so often that
to not be in love is to be concave.
is the greater vulnerability.
These people – the soul captors – the fill –
they remain orienting sun.
And so

I am not myself if not aligned with another.

To speak of myself,
I say one hundred names.

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