by Robert McNamara

I take off my
    suit of armadillo armor
        may you sit
            and relax
                like to pose
                    for paint

the smell of my foot
    I hold to your nose
        like rancid tropicalia
            or macaroni and cheese
                   left to smelt
                       in the sun

whilst I open
    my heart
        like a flower
           for you

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