As buxom, nectar-pregnant grapes rupturing beneath molars My ovaries spitting out infinitesimal pellets, Soaring Ova like mascerated melon seeds. Barely-audible sonic booms splinter hips, A ping-pong match Sharp-shooting in my pelvis, Fallopian tubes twist like strands of hair Doing the Jive around my Index finger.
I truly cannot comprehend why some choose to eat meat When the stench of my own rotting blood Month on Month Makes me wretch, All of my scent receptors retreating from my head. And this is the blood of the living Blood that gives life, Not the decay of maggotous, Pestilent flesh of an animal… Continue reading Feral Drench
Ferrous flood in an intimate towel A uterine Rorschach test. What does it reveal of my female psychology, This spongy, sanguineous form?