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The Body
with a rope bridge for a spine, supportive and supple –
and diving boards where eyelashes bend, leaping to new heights, embracing the belly flops –
covered in veins that map a life of roads to work and school drop offs,
country lane rambles and pavements pounded with the family dog –
holding out fingers that are matches burning bright but never scalding,
with walls for eyebrows that never build across, but are kept apart and open –
those above knees, themselves moulded from rock from pebble from grit,
and below a forehead lined in streams moving, rejuvenating, soothing –
women
woman
body
her, own.
Copyright ©
Thomas Harrison
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