My Body Is Not A Message by Kristin Garth

Kristin Garth, Poetry, Punk Noir Magazine

My Body Is Not A Message


and if it is, I didn’t draft its lines.

Had I been its author I might craft it

more streamlined, an appropriate, refined,

suggestion of a chest. Some smaller tits

to hide behind a sample size sundress—

same kind designed for women you would grant

esteem. I force my way in the same bodice

just stretching at the seams . I just want

to be a body, sunlight on my skin,

a naked refugee of abuse and

cruel Puritans. They read a message in

this body never written by my hand,

genetic code I cannot comprehend

like violence for virulence of skin.

kkristin 2020