Total Body Stress Response

Contractions define my form
Without my permission.
When my fists draw further apart
And my shoulders closer together
I fly on dismembered feathers
On purpose
To make up for contractions now weeks overdue.

Shot after shot, I wait for blood
To relax through muscle and sinew;
But it never comes, never clots.
Draw again. Fire again.
I must have wings, I feel them aching six times over.
Six weeks later.
Fletched, numb, and sexless,
No purpose.
Neither sagitta nor seraphim.

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One thought on “Total Body Stress Response

  1. Pingback: Anger for Sprints, Humor for Marathons | Setsu Uzume

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