Censorship III

They are all like the doctors:
Quiet, but not as removed.
Telling me they are sorry
For my loss, not looking
At the stumps, hoping
They get some money
When I sue the company.

No one knows I saw it
Coming down the tracks,
Or that only by fondling
The stumps can I get it up
Every morning, secret lusts
Become real, just like in
My dreams. If only I
Had been born broken
Outside, as well as in
Some are not meant
For mending, only for this.

My hunger is sated now.
I finally love my body.