What they disallowed in me, remains. What they bled from me, so stark and violent, I scooped it into my hands and drank it all back. It rolls down the corners of my soft cheeks, baptismal.
ยท
What they disallowed in me, remains. What they bled from me, so stark and violent, I scooped it into my hands and drank it all back. It rolls down the corners of my soft cheeks, baptismal.
“If you read every poem in every anthology of Greek poetry, you wouldn’t read one poem in which a character of the woman who’s loved is described or matters.”
Kathy Acker