Figments of my Self.
Tensed Jaw, Fragile Neck,
this Fair Naked Shape Standing in front of the Glass.
Sturdy Hands in command for Nail Biting
Thick but Soft Skin uneasy to Peel.
Round Hips dominating uneven White Legs, hiding a Grieving Womb.
I Stand. Silently Screaming.
Thinking Nothing.
Consoled by the Tempter
I rejoice not to feel this Overhealming Evidence.
It is so good not to be Me
a Hurt, the Fall
I want to Dive
Close my Eyes, Sleep;
Perchance Dream.
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