The Body is a Throwaway Thing
Curved spine
snaking
through her jungles.
Shoulders, a pair
of birds. One
soars, the other
plunges to where
feet drop
and drag at the end
of twisting tributaries --
but every night
the seam-stitched sails
of her two arms
fill with wind
billowing
over the bridge in her mind
to the sea
leaping with miracle.
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