Camus brought us to the bend
of absurdity
naked and
lapping.
accustomed to such morbid
situations
yet
clinking knees overcome me
alone, awash in my own feebleness, tangled
in a Beauvoir-ian cycle,
I don’t trust these eyes of mine.
the bends are repetitive, I see
thousands more women clutching
their vulvas-
Mirrors pity my wretchedness
and men lock me in yellow rooms
& here I am!
once again.
(on this bend!)
being hysterical.