With Holes Poem by Callisse J. DeTerre

With Holes



My memories are blue jeans, faded
and fraying in the stomach line
where I've bent so many times to be ill

the kind with holes where you'd least suspect
not in the knees from overuse
but in the crotch from sex abuse

the kind with peepholes in the pockets
and splits showing dimpled thighs in reverse
like my mouth always filled with pearls

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