we did gestalt chair therapy
and something called
“parts therapy”
in an effort to rectify the wrongs
I felt from childhood,
and the way I walked,
crooked, hunched a bit
I was always remembering something:
either a feeling
or a future and
trying to get nearer
but also, barbed,
alert yet
oblivious to any real danger
coming my way
because my spine was made of a
Tyrannosaurus Rex.
it rode the whole back of me
as I pranced along towns.

when i see her,
she has wings and she is twinkling, sort
of glimmering wherever she goes.
her hair is shaped like
a mask, and her eyes are bright
she is wearing all black.
she has put a spell on
a whole group of men,
walking through the
city with her hands out
and humming to her
touching thighs,
touching arms,
waiting for invite
and crouching.

sometimes covering her mouth,
hiding laughter.

and then sort of
bowing with an accent,
saying thank you
so much.
what did you ask me?
what does today feel like?
it feels sharp,
hidden like a cobra
but fast and willful
like a pierce
that ends you.
or is it the force I’m forgetting?
how a beast can survive
devastation and with no knowledge of
your history or sentiment about them,
ravage you with
one bite,
pulling you underwater,
twisting you as you bleed
into their teeth,
every limb suddenly free
of burdening socket.

“the alligator”


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