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By Sophie E. Moss
to grow old is a curious thing
sweep up bodies that never belonged to me
and inhabit them, a commedia dell’arte
of falsity weeping pearls &
holding spoons against my breast / whitehot
scald scar a figure i recognise as my own
before the stains
that wouldn’t launder out / a splinter
ingrown into skin long dead. i am up to my old
tricks again unraveling into arms
deadweight, casting shadows onto men
in lamplight / that pinkish hue of sex
or decay stinking rotten as i search for
my body inside a body
buried in the bed of the sea with
the rest of the earth’s underbelly. lose days
watching wax drip into bored stalactites,
wringing art from these hands as sharp
merbromin breaths punctuate line breaks / nothing
ever ends. it is worse in the mornings.
#Unreal #Poem #Age #GettingOlder #LaSignora #Decay #Bodies
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