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My bruises scarred his thin skin.
My bruises scarred his thin skin.
My snowy Polish thighs have better memories than I
For heavy bags carried, doorways misjudged.
I remember him in bathrooms,
After I move boxes.
My rotten fruit pocks
His keyholes to the lips and teeth of imaginary men.
He sewed flowers
From brown petals fallen on my body.
this is heartbreakingly
this is heartbreakingly breathtaking.