my leg became
something else-- a cartoon
cactus, friendly
with its polka
dots and purple
like a cactus who
says
I won't hurt
you that's when I opened
the bag, found the
star-- corners torn, left
as a reminder to
the star
(who no longer
looked like a star
but a creature nameless at the bottom of the sea)
I plucked out each thorn at the gate whose lock unlatched hung
open as an earring
and saw her then-- the woman
who was not me,
who would not let another pass and I sighed
at the sight of
her and a rising was then taking place wet lipped and breath
the rising taking
its warm place and warmth
rose to the tips
of risen things and doors parted : the woman who was not me
stayed there,
fingering blood on her arm-- the blood
bright as though
it wanted to stay inside her and live
the
blood is from the gate,
from the teeth
she said I asked whose
teeth
and then I was
pounding (she did not know which teeth)
I was pounding my
fist into my palm
because of what
had happened to the star
when
the woman said it's
okay she
grabbed my fist
and
said I can still
tell it's a star
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