When I Was 5 and Had My Looks
Oh a fox was I
A shell between a breast
I hung on frames
And shucked on legs
Yes
There was a flannel gown
Pressed between my gums
It draped on chains behind my door
It Pinked and pricked a
Sweet sweet basement of a girl
He was
A shelf on top my lungs
We
Never touched the ground
It’s fine
The sleeves claimed islands all their own
I often wonder
Will my waist come down
Again
To
Raise my ruffle
Like a barn in the night
And take my twenty pounds to bank
Oh a fox was I
I wonder
When can I peel back that time
Too her holy skinless
Boyhood raft
Oh to be a waffle cutting
Inner
Gated thigh
To be an opera on his loafer
To choke in threads
And feel once more
~Skin and Toast
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