Hand Holding Rocks
Trying to stay in this body, hands on the steering wheel.
Holding a collection of heavy objects,
Hoping to feel pleasure from being in this aging body.
Walking through the days, foot dependent,
Cleaning with absent arms,
Aching between the shoulder blades.
Hanging things with dripping fat,
Dripping body like a beeswax candle,
Asking the monster what it desires: “Mostly I am hungry.”
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