the dressing room mirror is scratched
but i still see
i still color
i am blue between the seams
these cut off my circulation
they are sizes too small for an ocean like me
they are tempting
my body and i mourn for one another
my body and i mourn like storms
mother to my flesh
i am a failed mother
my body is too young
for the things i’ve seen
is out of form
we are oceans fighting oceans
spilling into one another
my body and i love like
we are waves
we are breaking
and moving          stones