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“Months Later”

April 21, 2013

You would hear my body undevelop
at the first mention of him from a stranger,

a collection of images that once fixed
to the fridge, disordered at the office to prompt questions

of what love it is that sends you flowers –
all of this dried up by air, bleached in the absence

of our dark rooms and brought to light
by a couple words, a bit of information, a poison

in the well-being of what should be at rest,
but now sits out in the light as if it could breathe,

grow sternum and once again, walk away
while my arms fall slack, break femur to thumb,

ribs curl in like an angry man’s knuckle,
thrust to the hip, the thigh and at last, dig into the earth.

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