BODY PARTS OF A WOMAN LIKE YOU
Her face is washed clean.
Her face in sheets like water
falls, empty of light.
Her arms heavy
ache for presents to give.
Her hands bathed in fire,
the skin peeled raw.
Breasts, belly, overexposed.
Legs unsteady beneath her, but holding
a good bit of muscle.
Use it to walk away.
Use it to walk towards.
Skin, a spiderweb of scars.
Her back, shameful evidence of a mother gone mad,
a photograph that will not fade with time.
Her past pressing.
Her heart overwhelmed by opposites.
Beauty or reality.
Hope or desperation.
Purity or desire.
Bravery or cynicism.
Her
body
parts in pieces
left to forage for themselves.
Body parts of a woman
like you, waiting
for inspiration.
Body
well apart from the mind
of a woman
who takes wild walks
searching (a woman like you)
for midnight
four A.M.
dawn
LIS BROOK