legs

                                                   grief in the legs
                                                                                & so the legs
                                                                                                                                       like mothers
& so our mothers' bodies
laid open
for everyone                                         to take
                                                                 & thumb 
                                                                 & read

                  while we swirl
                                                                                wine like light

to remember
choking                                   on fruit                                                              forgetting

in circles
                                                   a kind of breaking 
                                                   that night

bled onto my skirt                & lost                                its starry insides 
                                                                                               in your hair

its diaphragm              grew quiet 
on our fingers.

                                                                                it was all an effort
                                                                                to give                notice.                            dutiful

in the way that tumors grow
bigger.                                                    metastatic
                                                                                     & valiant notice.

of the end of things.
                                              memory                                      as unforgivable

inexplicable leakage.

                                              forgetful bird.               i am                   asking to be                held.

Read more from Issue 20.2.