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self portrait

  • Jan 14, 2024
  • 1 min read

Updated: Jan 26

my corset made of ribs,

my mouth full of teeth,

no tongue, no tongue,

no taste, no speech,

my fingernails curled with dirt beneath,

my hair in locks of dread,

my skin oiled in soot, and seethe

of tan, of colour, of age, of life,

my spine straight carrying the hollowness of pride.

my abdomen concave

always hungry, never satisfied

my pelvis a symbol of the infinite.

my legs as lanky as the shadows of Indian child brides.

my toes curled inwards in shock n surprise,

my mouth always open

gasping to engulf more light.

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