“Introversion” © Irene Vincent
When I reveal,
I unravel like a guttural sound escaping
from the phalanges of beasts
maliciously contained.
From a figment of lavender blush
in the sky at supper,
I find people who roll me up in a ball
picking me up on a crowded beach
and eating me
for simple memory-purposes.
I am not kind when I reveal
a tight-clam
shut close
expanding like a black hole
‘Which way are you moving?’
If you will eat me,
I will eat you back
A carcass of a human trapped inside
a shy pineapple,
and a sour gum.
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