This body I nourish with vegetables

and balanced meals, this body

I move and stretch to keep strong

and limber, this body I nurture

with sleep and rest,

this body that propels a bike

across miles and over hills, this body

that climbs mountains and hauls

half its weight up trails, this

body that has worked exactly

how it is supposed to work

to heal and support,

this body has decided to rip

a hole in the muscles right below

the belly button, allowing

things that should stay inside

to poke out and create a lump

where it used to be smooth,

invoking fear and disgust

and utter disbelief that

this body—this body that now

needs a surgeon and a procedure

to make things okay—this body

is not entirely within my control.

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