You know Regina’s body.
She wears it on her sleeve.
Inside-out. It is well-known. Established.
Others have control over it, they do.
Regina’s body counteracts itself.
Its melody in dispossession.
Regina carries a wounded body.
Every touch leaving a fingerprint.
DNA floating around her heart.
Her skin, a narrator of history.
Her memories marsh over her bones as she sits still in contemplation.
The stomach follows the movements of her mind.
She’s making herself sick.
The body is in the present, a surviving entity.
Regina holds the gouge because she is moulded by punishment and self-sabotage.
Great-grandmother of mothers, villainous echoing wrath from the past.
Death is not a limit for you, you overarching shadow.
Regina’s body does not withhold the story of her life.
It fights off ghosts armoured with invisible hands and fists.
Regina will not fall because of the past.
The skulking depressors turn into dust that falls off her body.