There’s nothing in that hip-sway swagger–
that shows anyone the broken parts of you.
I only know because I put them there
one by one by one.
an eye for an eye for an eye.
[fair or right doesn’t occur,
not in the heat of it.]
I guess I’m just not as good at hiding the splintered balsa of me.
But don’t worry,
Between you and the karma,
I’ve got more than enough gnaw-marks on my edges.
You don’t ever shake that hip-sway swagger.
