Saturday, March 26, 2011

Woman Hand me

Not one sip or two, but swallows.

Did you know when you jump, you fall

back down she never said.

Those understoods. Feathers.

Inside me I never said. Thousands of eggs.

I’m not bleeding but I will, but if I were,

what would that mean?

Woman Hand, reach me. Up my dress: a nest

of birds, many promises of red.

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