Ecce Homo – a poem

When you look at me, do you see a man?
Do my rough shapes coagulate in mock virility?
These limbs, this chest, these hands, these lips;
Dissolve and fall apart, I cannot hold.

We are mostly empty space –
The gaps between the atoms, the void
Between the stars, the catch of
Before the climax.

We are not who we are,
An image of an image, reflected and
Refracted and distorted in your eyes

Like morning mist which dissipates too soon;
Identity as liminality.

Still she who dwells within cries out
And wonders why we cannot hear.

See Me.

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