To the Mormon Missionaries Who Interrupted My Walk on This Bright Spring Day
Even more irritating than the intonations of your voice
As each sentence furled upward like burning paper
Even more uncomfortable than your unwanted attention,
Or the distance apart you stood
Even more troubling than the feeling of manipulation
Hanging between us like a heavy chandelier
Was the way I filed you into categories and stuck you in a box,
Left on some dusty shelf in a forgotten corner of my mind.
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