OUR SPACE

avoid me
for the syllables
that slip off my tongue
into the face that holds
the baggage
that invades my space
 
remove
your backhanded
ignorance
when another’s point of view
is publicly conveyed
to you
 
continue
to protrude
into grey coats
whose inhabitants are more
appropriate
and whose voices
are strangled
by the belief
that vocal chords are not their privilege
 
avoid me
for the challenge
I present
for the resentment
your fragile
docile
sensibility cannot accept
 
remove
my blood-red orange
silhouette
from the central concentric
arcs
closing in around atrophying
pupils
 
we continue
to move
our weary irises
out of view
 
but I
can fucking
see
you
 
(it’s just like
looking
in the rear-view)
 
and the baggage
 
that invades
 
our space.
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