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I am a body heavy spoon

I spend days wrestling with this anatomy

Can you believe I am so close to nothing?

You think you own my uteri

I feel you in my septomaxillary

but I am not your fucking fair game huckleberry

Am I up the alley of emotional masochism?

or is it up mine?

I’m not a good liar. I thought you were the perfect

metaphor for my sadness

Under the winter moon

I am lost like a bird’s cherry

I am desperate to relieve the weight of you

scraping me raw

It is always the beautiful we are after, or at least I am

In love, in dreams, in hope,

In this body 

                        And this body

                                                Of this body

I apologize

for nothing.

My body is still mine, still visionary

I will never be your virgin Mary


ABOUT THE AUHOR: Barbara Hughes is currently studying English and Creative Writing at Rollins College. Recently, she had poems published in the campus magazines Brushing and The Independent. She was honored with an award for National Poetry Month by the Academy of American Poets. She enjoys drinking strong coffee, finding her inner goddess in writing, hiking in nature, and most nights having conversations with the moon. 

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