By Courtney LeBlanc
O crooked spine, o curved
skeletal frame, you grew
an extra vertebra and curved
to the left, refused gravity’s
downward pull. You send me
to the ER annually, seeking
syringes filled with drugs
to stop your frantic spasms,
the grip you know only
to tighten. Gave yourself
a pretty name – scoliosis –
and caused me to cry when you
were discovered at sixteen:
too late to correct, too late
to stop your sideways march.
O compressed spinal cord,
you send messages to my
fingertips – electric and
tingling. You hold one hip
higher, pull the same shoulder
down, attempting a tango
between body parts, the muscles
in the middle stuck in a crushing
embrace. The knobs of my
spine turned to the left,
a lopsided ladder for my lover’s
hands to climb. And how you
bend out half my ribs while
crushing the other side, the wide
breath I pull in to fill you, to ease
me through the stiffness and ache
you bring me most days. O twisted
bones, o curved frame – I call you
beloved, I call you beautiful.
I call you mine.
Courtney LeBlanc is the author of “Beautiful & Full of Monsters” (Vegetarian Alcoholic Press), and chapbooks “All in the Family” (Bottlecap Press) and “The Violence Within” (Flutter Press). She has her MBA from University of Baltimore and her MFA from Queens University of Charlotte. She loves nail polish, wine, and tattoos. Read her publications on her blog www.wordperv.com, and follow her on Twitter @wordperv and Instagram @wordperv79.
