toenail polish warped waxen from sand, you leave
your body behind again—mere rind, edges buzzing
from unsought touch. you end up in a skeleton
house & on a driveway with the sun
holding vigil—that central flame, her silent
drumming. her reminder : you could, if you flared, contain
something alive. instead you skin your bare soles
raw shuddering up & up the drive. you are so many girls
trying to move unbridled, you forget yourself. you wretch & tear
o only repentance o patriarchied psyche : split
in perpetuity, once you stood barefoot
on linoleum eating something delicious
out of the jar. it was the year of your favorite
animal, the year of mosquito nets canopying
your twin-sized heart. you jostled your ankles
to hear a tinkling, you sent your arm
heaving to twist your body in a circle
of women that never breaks. those women
never broke formation. those women
who made you, who taught you the footwork—
its weave & lilt—but never how to run.