I’m taking everything off
she announces, clawing at her clothes.
A new scar gleams on her mended hip.
Where did this come from, where is it going?
A cross-hatched seam
in the center of a body’s landslide.
A cradle for children, a long-ago man; a broken wing.
She brailles her fingertip down the red
raised tracks. This is not what she expected.
A railroad crossing pocked with stop signs.
A fire escape going down.