window shopping

I'm not a mannequin
at a shop window,
draped by things
you want to put on me,
to lure passers by,
to see what they
don't get to see
otherwise;
I'm not here
to take what's on offer,
scared that I won't get
what I really want,
I'm here to ask,
to cook up a storm,
and then leave
as quietly as I came in,
to thunder into
those skins of plastic -
cheap look alikes
of what's real,
what's human,
and right here,
now.