Uncovered (draft)

Why should my  sensitivity

be a sign

of who I am?



should I be measured by

the bruises I bear

from a night of unrest,

when all I asked for

was hospitality?


Why would you seek

to drug me

with pea-sized pills

and force me to climb

the innerspring tower,

when a simple question

would so easily give

rest to your doubts?


Don’t take my truths

as acceptance

of your hand.


If you had

seen me

first, I may have reconsidered.


The cover has been

removed from you, not me.


Your chance has been spoiled:


desire has that effect.

You will