SOMEONE ELSE MADE YOU EXIST  

		-After Gabriel Starner, Heather Hayden, & Max Anderson

I. 

I wear the long shirt that slides off
the shoulders—the one that covers
the core: a second skin, unconstructed. 
The one I feel most naked in.

II. 

Tell me how to hold myself. Tell me what to do
with my mouth. Tell me where to put my feet,
my breasts, my teeth, my eardrums, my ovaries.  

Tell me why it’s so quiet.  


III. 

The light lands 
on my collarbones. My collarbones 
are singing hymns. Hymns are echoing 
from the camera. The camera is making me
still. Still, my neck reaches up 
like a prayer—a prayer not to hate 
this body in all the light. 


Someone Else Made You Exist

Visitant