I.
You were the blood between my legs an idol a
nightmare a meltdown a
moment between breathing & reaching for an inhaler that you never
put into my hand.

II.
You are the blood between my legs you are still
the hands I think of every time I cannot stop it but I know it's
natural & I know it's meant to be that way
most months.

III.
You are the blood between my legs both the scars it comes from and
the place it falls from the way it should if I were to
remain a girl.

IV.
You will be the blood between my legs the reason I ruin every
pair of underwear I own the reason I cannot use
a more effective method of mopping it up the reason I'm
startled every morning you are the fingernails that did it
you are what I think of you are vicious femininity you are
every kind of trauma every kind of torture you are
the reason I cannot stop being afraid of blood.

V.
You are all over me. You are hands down a skirt that I
do not want to be wearing you are hands up a dress that I never
wanted to put on you are hands across a chest that I want
to mutilate you are hands hands hands and you are
too sharp too fast too forceful and I am looking at the blood
between my legs and you are that and yet you never
let it touch you
nor did you help me clean it up.