If you encounter my body, it will
pretend. Shy smile to stutter, eyes flutter,
descend. Online I am open. I spill
until arid is slush. My body encountered
is hidden and hushed. I can’t speak the truth,
but I will write it down. Words wing me to
friends while I’m caged to the ground. Bluetooth
all bravado, WiFi gone wild. You
encounter my body and find I am
a child. You won’t recognize me. Offline,
it’s buried deep. Sweet tea and monogramed
secrets all steeped, in Florida sunshine,
you’ll encounter a body, courtesan’s heart.
Maybe a minute then poetry starts.

Photo Credit: Hugedé Loïc Flickr via Compfight cc

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