As an orbital tattoo acknowledging guilt.
Maybe you cried once for tears of others.
Because you are stable
like eyes peering down in a rocking chair
to examine my soul;
I’m like a foreigner in some far away place,
accepting your exotic conduct,
repressing thoughts of you eating me.
Do your cheeks bear salt?
Because if they do I’m sincerely sorry
that if they don’t I hope they wet.