Her body a package
Through the assembly line she went

Somewhere, somehow
she got damaged
Tangled up in the claws of harsh machines
Scratched and dented
Bruised and scarred
and not quite
finished.

The parts of her most private,
most shredded
Below neat fold lie proof
that she left the machinery imperfect
and kissed by death himself.

These patches of scars not seen by others
Only by her eyes as she unfolds herself
Mesmerized by footprints left
by the past only she knows

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