No Such Agency We sneak in hallways, coast through lunchrooms, slamming our lockers, filling our trays with unidentified helpings of you. Our tongues slip on the familiar so we close our mouths against the reveal. We shut up and hold still until our pinks chameleon into whatever color it is that you are. Under cover, we become a part of your group. The cover conceals us from ourselves. And we become children hiding in our own dark you, unseen by us.