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My Body
September 26, 2018
My fingertips touch as wrap my hand around my wrist.
My thighs, there is a gap.
I am not sick, I am strong.
Yet this is not strength, this is death.
And in the end I must admit that this is slavery in its purest form.
I am a slave of my own body.
© Beth S., Marblehead, MA
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