in mocking hoover, made deserving

to keep from bursting confines
from melting at your every look
and seeping out,
whispered ribbons of self
snaking down these walls
until every lock rusts and snaps,
every hinge unfastens, flung outward
and catching some unsuspecting passerby–

to keep from washing in heavy waves
more undesireable than menstruation
(despite willingness to fly on red wings)
over your city, and drowning it all in my joy,
in my anguish and my anger

i press my fingers hard into my bones,
pinch my corners tight
and seal it all with rubber cement.

i will not spill out of myself
to stain your canvas–
this i promise you;

this, i can offer.


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