hello? what's your name.

we're not like other people, you and i. i can tell that as i watch you from the windows of the office. you walk with the farm dog, your head hanging low and your lips tightly pressed together. i forget your name. we always say hello but i forget what you said your name was. in the frenzy that we met the first time, where names were exchanged, i was trying to get a bird out of the office. we get birds in here. it's a farm. you learn to deal.

i want to ask you your name again, just so i can know. just so i can talk about you here with your name instead of some description of your skinny frame and quiet lips.

what is your name boy? i want to know your name.