the perfect fit...

i will not be estranged from my skin.

where folds of flesh fall upon each other, i trace with fingers. there are no sharp lines in this form. the rises and falls tell the tales of ten thousand, one hundred and twenty five day.

contained within is every memory worth repeating, every thought I'd rather forget.

my soul is too expansive for narrow hips.
although my mind races and my heart pounds
I will never be a greyhound.