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 Poetry 

Ode to Flesh

 

I have found that the skin I am unfolding myself into is allowing for unforeseen dance moves. 

A lively tango

I had yet experienced the footwork for. 

 

And God, when I tell you 

every inch,

centimeter, 

and yard

of the excitement I am experiencing

grows, 

melts, 

and dispenses as

evidence onto my rouging cheeks

and in my womanhood.

 

Phrases of obscenity find its route of escape through my clenching teeth,

biting into shoulder blades for balance.

The slip of my tongue is the very notion of blissful unruliness

deepening within me.

 

Veins stretch,

expand, 

and

collapse

into every formable crevice 

 

the ocean waves are crashing, 

I am right alongside them.

 

New fleshly discovery,

excavation of humility 

 

I will admit I identify with shapeshifters

the way I’ve found my limbs curling up against and into intangible reality.

 

To please is to be alongside guided divinity.

 

Collecting milestones of tenderized feelings.

 

Crash.

Burn.

Release.

-Jordan Conine

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