Unwaxed
Petals
can I have my pubes back now is the time
when my muff
had to imitate a twelve year old girl passed into
history can I say erk
and
move past the feeling of betrayal
each time my pants slide towards my
knees
can I stop tearing
the light pearl hair bulbs whole
from my softest skin to please an unmet
partner can I imagine the colour of what hair
there ought be to be
high times the honey dish
my sliding pelvis frames such
perfidy one hung head
not glancing low for insight on the action no
but sinking with a loss
come seek me in the suburbs
in my natal home
rummage in the shrubs
rip the diff out on the rockery
no more
Ah. Dear Kerri, what a shave of a poem and then a fine wild one.
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