|The 2River View||20.4 (Summer 2016)|
there was a day you couldn’t stop swallowing
a little girl in your throat, trembling
you wanted so badly to slip your thumb
her tongue like a virgin lake bathing a body
all of the guards who looked at you
coming back to memory.
or remember your name.
he will spit on your welcome mat, make you forget
by the third year you didn’t have enough hands
you gossiped about your own body to whoever
stood in the center of the cell, your mouth
you knew no other way to ask for help.
what else to do but shatter the vessel?
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