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How easy it is to snap
bone between our broken,

brittle as it has become, we
know from where sinew

simply gave up, flesh eager
to abandon the thankful

architecture, good meat glistening,
smeared across smiles, suckled

from fingertips shining and wet,
and bone, we know, is destined

to spread wide like legs to feast
on hidden creamy marrow, desire

sopped up with cheap bread,
fed down a greedy throat,

so we sacrifice this wish, bone
from the platter like our hunger,

the frame of our collars growing
gaunt and pronounced, breasts

disappearing along with our blood,
feathers, it seems, sprouting to keep

us warm, hearts humming like birds
feverish at the nectar, stealing

from the sugar bowl when weightless
proves too heavy and we

break because girls desperate
for luck will do anything to fly.