I'm Sorry Another Body Home
Waking up in her/me is unbearable, but of course I have no choice but to bear it. It started with the
legs. Her/me gathered the things that calmed me down and made them vile. Her/me stored everything
to make me know that I’m an intruder. Her/me had catalogues. I had nothing. Or sometimes I had
I spend enough time betraying her/me, she begins to betray me as well. This is only the natural order of
things. Her/me clumps apart, full of sabotage. Full of sabotage I placed around in pattern. I’m
surprised, still, when my hair falls out. When my knees lock. When I’m full of waiting. I started taking
medicine. I had to. It is recitation: I’m sorry. I want to try again. I would like another.