issue 30 > poetry > slavitt
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Crook of the Arm
by David R. Slavitt
I sleep on my left side with my right arm
bent at the crook and my hand in my left armpit,
snug, so I can feel against my chest
a slight pressure each time I take a breath.
My mind remembers back only so far;
the body goes beyond that. It is my mother’s
breast and shoulder I felt and can still feel,
as she held me snug like this in the crook of her arm.