The Egyptians had it Right

My skin is lonely tonight.

It is tempting to fuck science
and say that the brain is spread out
across that vast porous surface,
for surely my skin is saying
"I miss"
and the fact that my skin is saying
anything at all is surely revolutionary.

My brain doesn't remember anything.
My knowledge of brains consists
of the one that sat in a jar
in my third grade classroom for a week.
It was grey and slightly resembled mold.

This is where we were
with dirt on our backs
and a scrape on my knee.

The mold in my head only thinks
about how afterwards you left me
at my house and didn't kiss me goodbye.
The mold in my head is resentful,
but my skin is lonely tonight
and resentfulness is not a sense.