Blog, My Poems

My Scattering of Paper Dolls – Those, You Inherited

I know enough to say that I have lived
twenty-two times
on the eve

of my funeral.

My lack of pregnancy
is what keeps me
smaller –

the clothes
which used to be loose
have become


with leaves, a globe of birds
in the ocean


what is left of waves –

not the imitations
we have seen
on the break
of the sea.


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