There’s someone deep inside me who is me,
The “me” who is my soul—or whatever—
Since I’m an unbeliever. It’s the key,
Though, something that no surgeon can sever,
Not even hifalutin’ blade-like shrinks.
He’s actually a person. If you scan
Me with precision instruments, he shrinks
Away from view. He lurks, a hidden man,
Who wants the doctors to release him from
The iron maiden. I have known this long,
As long as he has wanted to become
Himself with muscles. Knowing he is strong,
I’ve kept him in the prison of my breast.
He wants escape. He wants his hairy chest.
