Give me one of them there fancy bitch names,
classical yet unique, like my parents
were academics who value the humanities.
Call me by it, day after day, each morning
and evening, like it’s my own—been mine
the whole time. Shit me into a rose garden—
packed between petals in perfect concentric
circles, like French royal landscapes, boxy
shrubs border. Press me in like a weed between
pages of the Bible. Revive me like a dead man—
mouth-to-mouth, and swallow my breath, let it
slide down the throat to your ass, then fart me
into the wind. Scatter me like seeds, bird droppings,
Johnny Appleseed, planted from coast to coast,
touching each ocean with both of my pinkies,
just ’cause you once knew me, corroded and
sun-bleached as I was that day.
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