My Geography

I like being naked

The tiny mesa of my belly swoops swiftly down, then up
like a swallow
To a jutting hipbone, hovers a moment
Before gliding down the narrow juncture of my thigh
Heavy handful of breast, sharp-dusk-nipple
hard against my palm
If I stand just straight enough, I love my lower back
Violin curving into the swell of my hips and buttocks

A hundred dark freckles map my skin
"mole" is an ugly word...Say freckles
Scattered constellations and connect-the-dot puzzles
A trio teeters in a precarious triangle on my collarbone
Two against the underside of my arm where the skin is soft
My favorite hides an inch below my left breast
If I push hard against it I can feel the springy vibrations of my ribcage
Cartilage straining fragile
And I'm reminded of the boy I loved whose chest was a valley
birdlike birdcage delicate
I'd lay my head between the hills of his breastbone and think
even though he's so much bigger than me
If I reach out just one hand
I could crush him

My peaks and slopes
Flesh alternating salt and silk
The dips and nooks and hidden surprises of my body
I like being naked

Postcard to the Powers that Be

Dear Sirs:


I HATE YOU YOU DICK YOUR A DICK!




(Note: The above was scrawled in a brownish substance, first believed to be blood. It was later determined to be pudding)