i don't pretend it's always poetry.

you find me at the most inconvenient times.
and you're finding me
is my finding
that i'm uncomfortable
about you.

{a neighbor who
asks
for a favor
a little too often
to keep my space
my own space.}

that's what i say, anyway.

what i really mean,
when i'm honest,
is that i
avert my eyes
because your stare
scares me.

does the pleasure ever stop? do i trust falling?
do i want to be known? will i be exposed?

i have built beautiful walls around myself
that i would like to continue
to show you.

have you read this?
oh, it's lovely.
it speaks of me,
you should read it
rather than speak to me.

have you seen this painting?
oh it's me.
you should look at it
rather than looking at me.

and there you have me.
a reflection
of things that i've found
to reflect me.
a house of mirrors.
trickery.