Just a simple polygon of a girl
Strawberries in the trash can and glass
in the compost; in her cheek is the chunk
She molds, twists, licks the callouses on her hand
I don’t know what to put here
She strives to be more than just amorphous

Relishes the romance, wishes amorphous
was a thing, a tip, a toe, a girl
I don’t know what to put here
The girl has a hand. It moves but slips through glass
A face that can’t be touched or held by hand
A mouth that holds, a fist that chews, the chunk

She wonders what she’d be without this chunk
To clasp, to hold, to shape amazement, amorphous
curio. She questions strawberries: “I need a hand
here. How does it feel to be sweet?” says the girl
“Almost as bad as it feels to touch glass”
I don’t know what to put here

I don’t know what to put here
She sculpts the air; not a chunk
but a cardinal flies from her palm. “Broken glass?”
she asks. A broken taste of shape, amorphous
shapes with toes, a start. A girl?
The polygon pulled by its own hand

A strawberry-red stained hand
I don’t know what to put here
What was a shell, a snail … It’s a girl!
She shuts her eyes and feels the chunk
slip away, a meaningless amorphous
chunk. She has eyes, they cry. Pain, sharp as glass

ticks like a clock as she sprinkles broken glass
in the trash. She has a face, it rests in her hand
Molds, twists, licks the thought of amorphous...
I don’t know what to put here
She cries and steadies herself on a chunk
of glass. A solid chunk of a solid girl

Smooth as unbroken glass; I know what to put here
I recognize my cardinal hand for what it’s worth, a chunk
An amorphous idea, a polygon of a girl