Looking me over, glaring into the inside,
past the hair and sweater,
down into the eyes,
feeling the beating of the heart,
swimming through the veins,
drilling into bone.
Analyzed, criticized,
gone over with a fine toothed comb,
transcripts, manuscripts,
dug through to China,
weight on the shoulders.
Eyes watch the prey,
not ready to strike,
but not ready to let up,
always watching.
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