She slouches on the edge of the bed,
covers her pubis with her hands.
Shy triangle points to pigeon-toed feet.

The breasts are the first to rise,
shoving out from within
like mountains raised from earth.

She’s so young that her eyes
haven’t yet grown in to her head.
Yet she feels the insides pushing out.

This is what her body does to her,
through her, despite her.