Impotence

Outgrowth of
wish bones
feathers
twigs and stones

I wouldn’t have known

if I hadn’t spread
my legs
wide open

Mother – cut them out
but make certain
I don’t feel it

Cut out the hard stuff
not the goo
I’ll touch and taste
and if it stains
wash it away

Cut out the hard stuff
but not the feathers –
they tickle and delight

Cut all
but the feathers.

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