I want to eat them
spit them out and yell, implore them
Ask me questions
don't bat your eyelashes shut
we are not caskets
we get buried in our things
but rise out, asking why.
Don't we?
Oh, I want to break out
of my teacher's body,
sit in the back of the room,
a forest of heads,
and dive
inside their black-brown hair
to remove the bark
& pick out the beetles
and grubs that block the way.
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