She: A Poem

pieced together,
held by floss,
and
fishing line

thin, transparent,
nonexistent,
threads
weave to and from
a spidery,
shaky,
mess.

twist and tangle,
it crosses and knots
soft, spongy, soul
and tired, frantic, body,
meshed together by
a blind surgeon

it is tenuous
and scattered

and seen only by her

straining at the seams

as she sucks in her stomach

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