My body makes paths through the
physical world, just as you do,
Although I have been, on occasion,
sorely tempted to refuse.
To do otherwise would be impractical,
and likely rude,
But all the time I wonder why I'm
wearing this stupid man-suit,
Which I cannot help noticing is only a
disguise
Designed by someone else to suit
another species' eyes.
At times it is a vehicle. At times, it
is a lie.
It would surely be easiest to dismiss
me as a cotard,
But to say what it is I truly am, even
for me, is hard.
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