I.
the first time i wake up
next to her
i forget i am
a woman
her back
shaped like a cello
i trace my fingers
where the f holes
should be
where i tried
again and again
to carve them out
with my tongue
in the dark
the first time
and i am not a woman
but yellowish-green
sectioned
like a star fruit
limbs spread out
in five directions
i am a creator
secrets for fingers
seeds for eyes
everywhere
the sun is sticking
everywhere
sections
pieces
littering the room
like wood chips
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