I stand on the balcony
almost-normally thinking
of the men in the hall

looking over my clothes
and forming an image
of my body

So that is who I am
so that is how people relate
to one another, scanning

who they are
in the eyes of others
assessing each other

and weighing up who
they want to talk to and
flirt a little, who knows

what will come out of it and
what their hands and feet
will do, yes, I do know

who I am, but I also want
to hear it and feel it and
make it felt, make it felt

Zywa

Who I am

I never dare to

speak to them, not one of them --


does even see me.