it's not like being fake, but rather,
you have an outward appearance that is as much a part of you
as the inside, but entirely different
and much easier to get to know.

it's like your cigarillos, que a ti te gustan tan mucho
and the (somewhat illegal) smoke that gets in my
eyes, hands, hair, shirt, scarf, neck
so that later, when I put my arms around myself
they smell like you want to smell.

but when you move in closer
for a hug, a grope, a punch in the face
[any emotion that's real involves a breach of personal space]
only then can you detect the slightest
smell of orange Dial soap, hidden but still present,
lingering despite your best efforts.

nous avons fait l'amour aveugle, mais,
it can still smell better than most.

(you'd've said yes, and then where would we be?)