As she stood in front of him
Loving
Every one of the hers that loved before stood in a line waiting to ask “Why?”
They stand behind her
Back to front
Each equally deformed
Hunched, trying
Receiving communion tongue out—
But it’s her body, not his.
The maze running in and out of their feet like a racetrack
Screeching at every corner
Each inch, suffering equally
Pained turns
Every time.
As she stood in front of her
Loving
Every one of the hers that loved before stood in a line waiting to ask “Why?”
And then fell into a mangled, tattered heap
And cried.