And where the hell did you go,
Where?
Now is when I need you most
to impress,
stress that, yes, I have one hell of a cultured mind.
And I cough and cough
And hope the stripes are stripped down in front of me.

But still there are times when those stripes must stay,
Solid,
Strong,
Standing,
Holding back his chest from propelling forward,
Latching onto my arm, waist,
Wrapping around my fingers,
Planting seeds in my pores.

Sometimes I don't want him here.

He is too immense and heavy for me to carry.
Too enormous for me to care.

But others he is small
And a comfort to hold close to my neck.
He fits perfectly in my collar bone,
Puddled in to crevices.

He fits.