when i am no one, i see that you are everything.
the red pulse of your lips and the night striations of your eyes
have nothing to do with me.
as they lay, wounds on your body, i contemplate what dies
within you,
and even as your flesh stretches taut like pink webbing
cannot deny the life that changes inside the cocoon
that is your body.
it falls awakens, falls away, i mourn the pieces as she
unfolds in wetness and moves in newness and
forgets the birth.
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