april 8th 2024

i didn’t understand kindness without incentive 

kind gestures concealed lies i was not meant to know

to keep me quiet 

could kindness come without sacrifice

or hesitated glances of pity or judgement

could there be a place

a person

could you look at me softly,

my hands and my peasant sleeves

public library frescos

could you look at me

wouldn’t that be kind

once i had it i knew where i had been lost

animal pavlov bell

i would not fall for tricks again

but never could you, sincere,

ensnare me like the others 

so i kept quiet 

as i made nice with others it was obvious 

nothing meant anything unless it came from you

wouldn’t it be kind to move to l.a.

where nobody knew us and all we needed was the boxed set of the l word third season

nights and millions and memorized dreams

and we’d kill everyone and you’d eat me

do you know, you were the one

who held the door open

who knew the name of my brother 

or how i wrote, how my voice sounded in a dark room

the length of my fingers 

that you’d touch under tables

delicate when it was right 

when i cried you would not come

so i’d keep quiet 

in hopes that i’d win you again

in hopes that you'd cure me

everyone is kind to me

street faces

adjacent classroom desks

they look for me,

costumed, practiced,

designed to be wanted

a window image girl

and nobody sees

my tail caught in your metal mouth

between your teeth came an oozing black liquid

smooth like a television screen

i looked to you in the elevator down 

and i was sorry not to see you kind

and you were sorry that you found me