By Siobhan Ramos
Throw me the line.
I'm drowning in my sex.
My lips bubble
And surface
Only once before
Currents pull me down.
My body is not buoyant.
I am told
To feel the weight -
ENTIRETY -
Of my tainted skin
And yet remain exposed.
So that salt and
Brine and teeth
And time
Devour, consume, abscind.
My sandy shame curled about my toes.
My own tide a secret placed below.
Reels and rocks and roles.
Must I be a figurehead?
Wooden woman
Hollow inside.
I am not a vessel
And yet they try
To anchor me with
Eight, dark, vicious chains
My armaments heavy in my breasts.
Tied to the berth at men's request.
Debris and driftwood and death.
I have kicked and screamed,
And emptied my breasts
And collapsed my lungs
And waved goodbye to the shore...
For now I fear
It is not a place
I know any more.
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