Being a starfish, I’ll regenerate
when I lose that arm.
My thumping heart
waits for rhythm sticks
to start dancing.

No celebration, this is a dance
of water just being let out
of water breaking through the levee
of water finding the right crevasse
to run down.
Water wet that kids play,
thighs squeeze together.

So I’ve lost limbs. I don’t intend
on touching anyone, but in case
I do, my arm will begin to grow,
legs too, splayed,
come on baby, get me.
I’ve been bitten off and now I’m new,
revenged merely because I know
my parts are lying on his doorstep.

01/02/2006

Posted on 01/03/2006
Copyright © 2024 Lisa Marie Brodsky