I am hovering about you,
a bee in a headdress,
a man in a dress, so ungodly
and ugly, the plants in your
sacred garden wither,
and take on odd colours
and then some. I am
busying myself in your bonnet,
your plastic face keeps resembling
my scary childhood clown face,
your fingers prodding the nowheres
of my body, and your general
staying away, which also hurts me
immensely, this red sticker face.
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