And now let us remember — what girls know — the green leafy ditch where we gathered… … …that dark, luminous taste of earth—smeared between fingers—gritty, wild in our — small sharp teeth — the earth, Her mineral richness …
That I was an egg inside my mother inside Lillian That she is an egg inside an egg inside me What am I
I sucked the marrow from the bomb it tasted so right like GMO corn it made me weep how full it was I knew better than to fall in love with any piece
I am cleaning off my girl I long to salvage what’s live in her I wipe kohl gunk from the slits of her eyes I pat at her glittery pout with a towel My girl scowls at me and cries and
I long to be a mother. I am a mother. I had an abortion. I experienced my abortion as an urgent, terrifying, and often beautiful initiation into the power of the feminine. As a woman free and whole unto myself,
I am writing to you about girls & sex. I am writing about my first orgasm: that when I was 14 I slid the curved handle of a butter knife inside, and coming was a revelation of warming steel. I
