bug,bite,scar

i will keep my legs crossed,
my hands to myself,
my mouth shut,
and my mind open
listening to you talk about
that,
and the other
but never
This.
i will hum a soundtrack
that doesn’t belong to anything,
i will show you my
poetry blood
suspended
on paper
that i can’t let you touch.
and i will do it all
as soon as
my dignity
returns.

for michael

haiku can be weird
sometimes they don’t make any sense.
hippopotamus.