Skinwalker
I feel like I must apologize before entering like wiping my feet I take off all my clothes, then knock I don’t want more I want so much less I want to know exactly what’s going in but I may never ignorance is part of the rent the net, unless I strip away even more my job, my skin each one of my appetites and yours pair them off and put them on a ship leave the water on like god did the fig finally the door opens having forgot I even knocked you say, it wasn’t locked and I walk through like I did your progress my body swinging, heavy in the paws like a hanged man, or a wolf at the last second
Pretty sure if I read this out loud to my cat at night it would transform into Scarlet Johansson. 1000/10
This is very scary! There is a series of terrifying poems that I love that's unfortunately very scarce now, called "The Strangers" by Kristine Ong Muslim, and I think your poem here would get along swimmingly with them!