{"id":100619,"date":"2021-06-27T03:13:04","date_gmt":"2021-06-27T07:13:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=100619"},"modified":"2021-06-27T06:46:43","modified_gmt":"2021-06-27T10:46:43","slug":"selfie-filters-hour-19","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2021\/06\/selfie-filters-hour-19\/","title":{"rendered":"Selfie Filters (Hour 19)"},"content":{"rendered":"<pre><span style=\"font-weight: 400\">Your body's story slips \r\nfrom behind the words you want me to see.<\/span>\r\n<span style=\"font-weight: 400\">\r\nThe folds of skin pulled tight, \r\nangled in the hand held mirror camera lens, \r\ntransparent as the plastic screen saver you project.<\/span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-weight: 400\">Your body's story is a nest of hornets \r\nburrowed in the hollow tree behind the pond.<\/span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-weight: 400\">Your art betrays you, \r\nlike school children who cant keep a secret, \r\neach crimped curl, each curve of mascara, \r\nevery striped line that accentuates the center of your figure,<\/span>\r\n<span style=\"font-weight: 400\">All are wailing birds of night, \r\ncrying for companionship in the dark.<\/span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-weight: 400\">Your body's story is a scavenger \r\nthat rides the high cross winds, \r\ncarrion eater soaring like an eagle.<\/span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-weight: 400\">I look for your hidden blemishes, \r\nshaming jewels whose crown can never be undone, \r\nthe real treasures that reveal you, \r\nthe imperfect nose ridge, \r\nthe wilting petals of your cleavage, \r\ngravity's touch not so obvious \r\nwhen you pose with your arms above your head.<\/span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-weight: 400\">Your body's story is the trampled ground in early spring, \r\nsnow thawed earth, crevices, and sediment \r\nsliding\u00a0 into creeks and ponds.<\/span>\r\n\r\n<span style=\"font-weight: 400\">The story of your body is the truth of your beauty, \r\nyet someone taught you not to lead with it. \r\nTo hide it until you can trust them not to hurt you with it. \r\nAs if anyone could hurt you more than you.<\/span><\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Your body&#8217;s story slips from behind the words you want me to see. The folds of skin pulled tight, angled in the hand held mirror camera lens, transparent as the plastic screen saver you project. Your body&#8217;s story is a nest of hornets burrowed in&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":965,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-100619","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/100619","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/965"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=100619"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/100619\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":102104,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/100619\/revisions\/102104"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=100619"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=100619"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=100619"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}