They scrape a layer away,
like skimming the surface
of a pool.
The person’s still hidden
underneath.
She doesn’t like herself,
doesn’t like being called
homo and gay and queer
and dyke, so she asks for
a new person instead.
Problem is, no matter how
far they dig, the layers
all look the same.
In fact, the surgeons are
not even sure what they are
looking for, even though at
least one of them is fully
convinced they will know it
when they finally see it.
