For the smooth-looking

Pretending to be blank, you


– Melted wax,
Still cold –
Still wax.

For the scribbled paper
Crumpled, and thrown
Right into the bin.

– Open it: it’s blank,
Blank, a void, yet
Again. You.

For the uncrumpled, the deceiving
And the paper.
You –
Stamped bodies
Bizarre breasts, distorted
Them. You.

Seal the void
Of sex
With the wax
Of shame.