-“Tell me, who I have to be/to gain some reciprocity?”
-Lauryn Hill, “Ex-Factor”
I am the third reincarnation of myself; the daughter,
a woman, the holy spirit?
Malleability is the lack of formation, I’ve adopted—
she’s adapted to stone or she hasn’t developed at all
“Give me your heart…” Her long curved fingers grasp
at my chest, I hand it over still rapidly, beating;
she only showers ,me with steel flakes from her thick thirteenth skin
it’s bad luck or bad timing, she’s not shedding,
—I sew pieces of discarded layers with others; make myself: chainmail,
a shield, armor to sleep in.
Each day brings new cells a change in cytoplasm prisons that grow
not wiser, but weighed down by its own thickness, harder.
Mostly moisture making too big a show of cohesion, I can’t corrode anything,
lacking the acidity, too ph balanced…
So I replenish myself in myself, seventy-five percent water; submerged
I drown myself clean.
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