NaPM April 6 2015

[milo]

nevrybody

you will never see them hiding
your face behind a bus schedule
or skittering in the back of the coat closet
at your favourite restaurant
but if you stare at the reflection
of the phone in your hands
 as if you were staring through 
you might catch one between the stripes
of the wall paper in the hall.

her teeth are not trapped
in the lochs of her lips
and her eyes pool down through her cheeks.
What is the wet cord she works 
with her hands as if threading herself 
together with entrails?
she asks you not to see her
through the greasepaint bars
of her prison.