gay hanna baby
i know you saw my nose
are you gonna eat it?
it wiggled once, it wobbled twice,
then landed in your soup (how nice).
you looked at me with saucer eyes,
like i committed nose surprise.
but you’re the one with spoon in hand,
and breadcrumbs forming on your gland.
you said, “it’s just a sniffle snack,”
then tucked your bib and leaned way back.
i said, “that nose is part of me!”
you said, “then why’d it taste like brie?”
i ran, nose-less, through the park,
dogs mistook me for a lark.
birds mistook me for a sneeze,
then offered me a chunk of cheese.
now every night, beneath the moon,
i hear you hum a nasal tune.
and though my face feels incomplete—
i hope my nose was good to eat.