Sphinx

sphinx-by-kmls

I don’t like you.

I don’t like the way you wear your hair.
I don’t like your infatuation with the color black;
The way you smear it on your lips and wipe it across your eyes,
The way you wear your dress.

You wrap it around your pale skin like you’re some kind of a mummy from Cleopatra’s tomb. They haven’t found it yet, even with all their digging.
Maybe they will someday after they’re done with the Pharaohs.

I don’t like you.

I don’t like the way you bury yourself in the shadows of these ruins.
You’re down so deep that if I had a pick and shovel I couldn’t reach you.

I don’t.
All I got are my hands
and I been throwing stones left and right ever since I met you.

Show yourself, girl.
Throw wide your arms.
Burst out of the dark cotton cocoon that surrounds you.
Let me see your treasure.
Let us all see your glorious crown.

I don’t like you.

I don’t like your hair.
I don’t like your dress.
I don’t like that thing you wear in your nose.

I’m not supposed to like you.
I am to love,
and I find when I look deep into your burning heart
my dislike goes.

Written March 3, 1996

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