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my body is an injury the world :: natalie shapero

by on July 10, 2016

My body is an injury the world
can’t seem to heal from—
you would expect it gone
by now, and yet each next
day it persists, still implementing
its same staunch pain, atrocious,
railed against, assumed
by the world to be an ingenious
comeuppance, a vengeance
against it—what did it do

what did the world do

to warrant my body within it,
smarting, to warrant each of our
bodies within it, crowding
the sites of abuse, assessing ticket
prices, asking how much to see
the slave house, how much
to touch the indented names
of the killed, how much to enter
the slatted cell and size it, close
behind us its wrought door, oh

actually that one’s free

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