Persons

It’s nice to feel the wind against my skin
recognizing I exist.

Recognize the meat
on the bones
in the space
it occupies;
I occupy a space.

He traces my body with chalk
not because I’m dead
but because he wants to remember.

The space I was in when I first saw his face.

The space he was in when he looked at me
really
looked at me.

He looks at me
and I see myself as a person.
I haven’t felt like a person in so long.

I look at him
and see a person.
I still need to dig into.
There is so much
to dig into.