hour 7 poem 7 notes on the body —her body

she was born in a body   where she longed
for more-spacious    when she feels like she feels
like her body was in the road    like she tied her body
her waist / her birdsong   she swallowed
a person she has lived
with her body

her hands watch    she forgot what she wanted  to see
she eavesdrops on her body   some sort of old
tired thing    she builds rapport with
shiny knobs    she walks with a deep
note    she feels like a paper
of glass   has yellow contractions

she feels a bit of love or a car yard
in her body here —eat a piece
of her wrist    her bones moan from
within    are you my teeth she asks / she can feel
the slurred rhythm of his words
pass thru her body    a rippling bruise  :    a pain she will use

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