Poem: Day3

Operator, I’m all dialtone
and monologue. I’m all
cradle for the broken
hearted, fractured minded–
licking up tears
then sitting alone. It’s all
lips and hips anyway,
so I should sew my mouth
closed. Get over it..
but my strong sense
of woman sensability
says say no,
says spew swears
and sins instead. That’s all
I’ve ever known.

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