Literature
an october apology to my body
i)
the crook of my arm is blue once more.
a round bruise, a globe of the earth, laced with green.
a little world in the boomerang curve of my elbow,
which i peer at from far away.
-
(i’m sorry little arm, i know you’re sick of blood tests.
i know you’re fed up of all the poking with needles,
to check up on my poor struggling liver.
i’ll tell it i’m sorry for starving it, too).
ii)
i’ve decided to take up space in the world again,
to make myself part of it, join in.
but i’m like a wobbly child strapped to a car-seat
on a long nauseating journey to the beach.
a child clutching a puzzle book in their