it’s hot
sweat drips
whispers down
my back between shoulder blades
towards otherworldly valleys
which causes me to look down

contemplate unshaven legs
yes yes i will shave you
slice each hair off with wee blades
only to see them grow back again
which makes me contemplate
tweezers

ripping out mini irritations
should i pluck my eyes out?
would life be better blind?
to everything and every little flaw we see?
to every little scar and every visual lie?
it makes me listen to english music
watch subtitled foreign movies
with their darker ingrown endings
they seem more realistic

if i spoke with an olde french accent
would it better match my hairy demeanor?
perhaps match my inner wild?
embrace my graying
au naturale?

but hairy legs are so inelegant
and these tiny hair follicles
completely underestimated
i dont feel like it
i'm shaving my legs
because i'm hot
and want to go swimming