You would not like
the real me.
I tell you this
all the time.
I tell you this
as I take off
my coat, my sweater,
my mask, my face.
I tell you this
as I unzip my skin.
I tell you this
as I bite into you
with my revealed teeth.
I explain
in the language of my heart.
You call me a liar with your love,
and I thank you for it.
I think I would like whatever is under that skin. I loved this, by the way. Short and feral, and wonderful images.
Somehow you always know just what to say.