Posing Naked

Brown hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones
Soft hands, hairless arms (nearly)
Tries to always have a pen
Smells of deodorant and cigarette smoke, sweat beneath
A rip in one knee of his gray skinny jeans
He prefers to spell gray with an ‘e’
He prefers to be separate from himself
He is a her. She is an idea. It goes on and on resting but does not stop.
I wonder could I be here and write forever of her, stinking like this, thisssss,
Bleeding out onto the ground when there is no blood left.
This is not art.
We are alone here.