Bus rumbles forth With some, you, me, then others Sitting, some invite maggots and vultures But one dinner resists Transfixed as I am On a hand So white (As a screen fell victim To writer's block that night) I can't sit still What have I become Prey, predator? No, Just active observer Counting fingers Your touch impresses Our faces both Nails match your sweater But not my eyes I cough Ashamed of my surprise I squirm again Bearing sudden witness As five digits awaken To straighten hair so straight And black And soft Your invisible audience Eyes closed tight Weakened by awe The bus turns Sun unleashed, sets afire Hair fingers nails sweater My God The Perfect In a place one expects the mediocre The non-existent But you exist And with anonymous heart Pounding uncontrollably So do I.Birth sign: Leo
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