Confident child.I carried the little budjust below my breastbonein that unguarded ganglia of nerves. Thenyour filthy handsbelow my collarbonescaused such desiccation.There is no rejuvenation ofdead buds or dead nerves.Dry leaves stuck in my throatsuffocating poetry, intimacy, and kinship. And soI lay my healing hands onclavicle and symphysis and sacrumto succor buds in other girlsin vindication […]