fake bombs in early july

you are
uncomfortable with
your body, in
your body. you
have no
confidence in your
body. always
has it worked for
you and always have
you begrudged it.

they wrap their arms
around you, wrap
their legs around
you. you
lift them easily,
your body, always
does it work for
you. they wrap their
tongue around you.
they hold on to
you tightly
as you carry them.
you peel them
from you. you
slide their clothing
from them. you
begrudge your body.
you expose yourself with
reticence, without
enthusiasm. always
has it worked for you.

tonight you fell
immediately upon
the roll of credits.
the blackness of
screen. the tremble
of music. tomorrow
you rise to stand
your body puppet
your body, yes,
begrudge your body.
take it to and keep it in
such artless and brutish
spaces. outside
there are bodies who have
never once felt
the earth moan
beneath the weight of
bombing, so they
revel in a voluble and
impotent pantomime
of power.

you begrudge it, still
it works for you. they
wrap their arms around
you, wrap their legs.
they wrap their tongue around
you. you lift them
easily, carry them
easily.