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Self Portrait Poem
I'm bending over counterspace
trying to see the curves of my back,
marking my cartilage bone marrow and calcium,
ebbing in the lines and bumps of my structure.
And they
buldge
like cancerous tumors,
bones peircing through my skin
puncturable and breakable.
And when did god put together a beast like me?
One, two, three,
I can count my vertebrae to my neck lining.
It twirls and twirls,
like a ribbon tangling my body
and I
follow.
And when I meet eyes
peering out from the odd angles of my anatomy
the beast is looking back at me.
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