Customer Service.

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I found an air
Open & Silent.

I found an air
Open & Silent.

Where I can look through
Everything.

My wrinkles suspend
Like a Dali painting
Holding skin on stilts.

Some phallus points their keratin
Towards my air and questions:
“Is he staring at the wall?”

It’s quiet in there.
I cannot hear anything.

The phallus thinks
I am being rude.
Because I am something
They cannot fuck
And claim as property.

I am pulled from quiet.
Into their noise.

And I notice
The white of an eye
A pockmark
Or a cold sore.
Anything human
To distract me
From the beast.

And then
I go back to my air.
Inhale. And sing.

Never hearing the lyrics
But loving the purpose
Of silence.

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