A word,
like a circle
has as many points
as stars in the sky,
And one,
like after noon.
But--
happy, sad, beautiful,
love, cute, pain...
you have no curves
around your heart-shaped hips,
or volume to the thickness of your thighs,
or weight bared down upon your breasts.
But still you dance in the field of understanding,
like faeries in a fish bowl.
I will gas your faery aquarium!
and then scrape your wings from your spine
and flush 'em down the toilet as offerings
to the god of Poetry.
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