Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Tuesday, April 28, 2009: On the Street….Sammie, Sydney

The marbled grain of wood recalls fingerprints,
Patterns of hair in the scalp.

We are marked by the ways we grow or stop growing,
Skin embossed with ridges

And lines, topographical. Highways of indigo unfurl
In my forearm, shuttling blood

Automatically. It’s not my doing. If I had a tail,
Could I flick it with the same ease

With which I twirl my hair or tap my feet?
Probably, but I don’t. So I allow

The traffic of my body to continue, to continue
To bear the impressions left

From the molds that cast me: gridlines, carvings,
Indentations and inscriptions.

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