We’re all bald that is, under these soft hides we call skin. plain hard skull storing our slimy veiny minds. we can’t laugh without exposing the bones: our yellowing teeth. slowly decaying with age falling out in death. we can’t cry without exposing the tears: glimmering corneas, reflective fluids extracted from behind eyes. flooding out when we squeeze blinks, staining our cheeks, outwards. we can’t speak without exposing the tongue: fleshy and wet pinkness. flicking, slippery, gluttonous emissions at each pronunciation. our true selves, hidden by the layers of biology. our true selves, evolved beyond our realization: covering the ugliness we need to show when we forget that we must.
| Maryam Alarcon 18
