I see you are wearing
your polka dot dress tonight.
I’m wearing mine too.

See.

Sometimes I forget to zip
up all the way.
Does that happen to you too?

I see you enjoy the dirty,
the dilapidated, the peeled.
Me too. Me too.

Did you suck your thumb
as a child? I never stopped.
And now I’m dead.

Correction. My creator that is.
I am very much a living work of art,
nearly 50 years old.

I see you know how
old buildings speak
while camouflaging what disturbs

us deep inside. When I cover
my mouth with my fingers like this,
everyone thinks I’m ashamed.

You and I know better.
How smiles and frowns begin
the same way. Lips bow up and down

veiled or not.
I am a cheetah.
Are you one too?

I will be a leopard
tomorrow. How about you?
They call us spotted

hyenas. You and I
know better—the laughter
the hand conceals.