I will my alien legs onto the gurney. “You feel something?” asks a nurse, tapping the thin helmet of my belly.

I will my alien legs onto the gurney. “You feel something?” asks a nurse, tapping the thin helmet of my belly.
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One morning I feel myself illuminated with looking, blinking between my legs, our lust immaculate.
There’s part of me, probably, that feels safe letting men
let me down, I write while leaving.