your face so lonely
i wanted my fingers
to reach you, to snap
you away from isolation
i wanted more
i wanted your
long face to be oval,
round, even square-jawed
i wanted your lips
to curve upward
I wanted to be there...
T said, 'You're not straight!'
He said, 'Sure!'
He's tired of straight, (boredom)
so he wears this wig
just a oncer, he proclaimed
Are all the Swiss like this?
He finally discards the wig
He is receding
He wipes his right hand
across his thinning cranium
He is expecting acceptance
... for his honesty...