These Limbs

These limbs are an ocean

River-changing 

Something profound

These limbs have a story

The same hip shape as those that broke for me 

And my mother 

And so on, until we all began 

My mother taught me well

My father loved me softly

I am working on learning their stories

And I am working on forgiving

There are shapes that hold us together 

I had a best friend before

Whose limbs looked like my own

Until I was bruised and hungry and scarred

I realized limbs are breakable 

Made from the earth that we decided to destroy

My finger has a callous

It appeared in second grade

Hands too busy writing 

Mind too busy making stories

Weaving together my body and soul

I would tell the little girl, beautiful darling night

There is a world full of stories and all of them hurt

These limbs are all mine 

The swish of fabric

The tucking of hair 

I don't have to give them my limbs

These beautiful, broken limbs 

Which no one deserves to see