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Nora Feb 2016
These ******* are not mine
They swell and sag.
And the thighs
They, too, weigh heavy
Spreading out across my sheets
Twice as wide as they seem
Pale and pallid -
Loose jiggles run amok.
These arms are not mine
Shapeless chunks with no chisel
Thick and stocky, like sausages.
I don’t know their touch.
I don’t know myself.

— The End —