160 Taboo
I learn from you the meaning of taboo, when you are passing
Me with a granite face and the words you have scrabbled on it
With metal: 'I don’t look at her' -- so deep that they are scarring
After they flew at me from inside your ripped ridges of ribs --
In lava. Slowly moving on your wooden legs, which smolder;
Striking against the corners of walls with your shoulders, in smoke;
And staring somewhere far beyond my words and out of focus --
Then, you are teaching me the taboo: 'I'm not looking at her.'
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