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Jun 2015
there is a boa constrictor
wrapped around my ribcage

there is an old story lodged in my windpipe
and i wish Heimlich had been a composer
so i could write it out without turning blue

i am lop-sided
but, alas
there is no one to lean on

it is heavy
(i must sit down)
where is the floor?

i long to talk to strangers
and keep my house clean
and run my hands across my husband's beard
just one more time

all i feel is a loss of circulation
my words won't reach higher than my chest
struggling to escape,
to wriggle through a sealed-off space

i cannot tell if it is my love reaching through my chest
or if it's....
Kate Lion
Written by
Kate Lion  Israel
(Israel)   
761
 
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