They took her head.
Not out of cruelty,
but out of habit.
They wrapped her
in coarse fabric,
called it order,
called it protection.
Turned upside down,
she lost direction,
but not her body.
What remained visible
was what had always been desired.
No face.
No name.
Only surface for gazes,
only silence for projection.
This is how a human is stored
when thinking disturbs
and desire is enough.
She is not exposed.
The gaze is.
