in her room in front of a mirror she stands
after long years of sitting
right hand covering, left hand massaging
a sick breast a lowered head she's parting
and who should I blame she asks
that I don't recognize in this reflection
the grace that adorned my face in the past
every year and year deep in the flesh
the body remembers
no it's not too late
moments of missing something are a lie of time
after the breaking a wind apprises pushes away the unease
starting tomorrow a new leaf starting tomorrow
and the night is bare there's nowhere to hide honey [lit. my soul]
only the light in the fridge lies a comfort
in her head digesting the same point
that her life has left her lonely
so many hands have touched her body [lit. how many hands didn't touch..]
each finger an experience of the skin a layer of protection
on her breast her lovers have lost their innocence
when they faked promises and fulfilled their leaving
the body remembers
no it's not too late
moments of missing something are a lie of time
after the breaking
a wind apprises pushes away the unease
starting tomorrow a new leaf starting tomorrow
groggy she asks
whether she's going to be all right
a hand streaches out searching
the roughness of a bandage on a scar apprises