There are trigger words you like
to abruptly deter me,
like a half closed cap of
an upturned bottle.
You do this so I won’t feel helpless,
despite the obvious blows on my soul.
slingshots after the last letter,
and I’m left, static and bemused
by the dirty words that silence me.
is not tyrannical.
I live within muted colors, not suffocating colors.
I think it is a lie, your protection.
The inclusive ambience
is meant to exclude
Me, I know.
And in burning days, you wish
nice –ooh, that word! –
wouldn’t bother you
Yes, the sweat rolls
off into our grimy sinks
One day soon, the auspicious
“Not quite,” I’ll proclaim;
to the other side
and you, on the