window affliction 

whenever i try to take a video
of myself there is a new person watching.
i crawled inside this house because it only had
one window. then in the morning
there was two. by nighttime, three.
windows procreating like rabbits.
windows winking at strangers & saying,
"come & look at this dragon." at first
they were all the same shape. then,
windows came in circles. portals. octagons 
& triangles. all the alphabet of light.
sun & then sardine-belly moon.
strangers peer inside. frantic. i run
from one side of the house to the other.
i cover the windows with everything i have.
towels & papers & old t-shirts. just as
one is covered another arrives, blinking 
itself open. when did you realize you were
living inside a beast's skull? i never know
just how much i want to be witnessed.
i have to admit there are moments
when i see someone watching me
through one of the windows & i feel
like a god or at least an idol. i feel
made of precious. like they might build
an altar to my bones. what are they taking?
what am i handing over. a vision is just
a breathing photograph. save that thought
of me, putting on my tulip clothes.
turning into a bulb mother. enough 
with the light. enough with the mailmen.
if you want to watch, watch. know though
that this is contagious. if you have one window.
you might wake up with two. you might
discover there are deer living in your yard.
they have a television & they like to watch
America's Next Top Model. i warned you.
there are not enough curtains for this life.
you can doorbell me. i'll always let you
be part of the movie.