like the rain, this too

how many times
i have lifted my lashes
a f/a/n/
to the sky

stretched my lips
softened into the elegant curve of a bow strung
to send off
(arrows) of joy, at the slightest stroke of hesitant fingertips;

how often
have i thrust out my breast
like the   soft seeking metal
                                           muzzle of
                                                 a gun,

cocked to shoot off on hair triggers
small capsules of bright light happinesses,
at the first fumble of unsure fingers-

how often
have i thrust my shoulders back,
as though proud of every pound they protected
from hitting the ground,

when i (more than anything in secret) wanted

to
fall
to
my
knees

(to break)

???

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