My leotard, the one I wore as armour
to protect myself from old amores,
swings like a lost wing in the wind.
I reach for it as I reach for things these days,
upwards, arms and eyes wide open,
to add it to the bouquet of my laundry.
Falling into my hands -like life these days-
It vibrates? Just another delusion.
Because I feel things, you know. I see things
and hear things and I feel things that
aren’t really there and it only
scares me sometimes.
But it vibrates again -this time I am not crazy-
so I let my hands roam,
search for it like a heartbeat.
Here, press here, gentle as a petal.
Feel the zzz beneath your fingers,
throbbing like a sting.
This is something!
Shake shake shake!
Out tumbles a fat bumble bee that you have been squeezing.
Laugh and say, I was only teasing!
but he flies off, rolling his eyes: weak human beings
with your easy smiles and stupid, curious fingers.
he shouldn’t have been hiding in my armour in the first place.