her thighs
sore with memory
shift back and forth as she walks
uphill toward the train
she is all tears and fog
left alone to soon
captured by ten years of
photographs transformed to
what now looks like regret
her body has been an earthquake shift
tectonic plates sliding out of place
revealing hidden earth, graves and bodies
she walks crooked
asphalt under her cracked now
like the day she is about to encounter
loss stinging her cheeks
like the fog in the air
she is demented metal
sidewalk trash fury
on the side of skyscrapers
ill-fitting and torn
the train is coming
breeze sucking air from tunnels
she stands spine tall to keep her
chest from caving in
hollow from giving voice
to echoes, ghosts
and orange desire.
A Birth Project 
beautiful and painful