And again

God knows I want to be seen
as badly as the next person, as much as
any and every other person

And if I want to hide, if I shiver with what I've told you
and feel the earth pull me down to crouch suddenly
on the pavement and cover my face, it's only because I don't
believe you'll take the time to do more than look.

Later, I will tip my head forward under the shower head
a chador of white noise and my ears deep in water
and blood pounding under it a word
(I will wash away everything you know about me) —