A festering rebirth
She gathers her limbs, looks at where they lie
Blood, pus, scabbing
She knows she did not create this
and yet it is there.
It has things to teach her,
with its pockets of
Its walls, its blocks she cannot
She feels almost there.
The earth cries beneath her feet
She wants to See
Sometimes she imagines it is healed
What she does not know
is that it’s not as scary as she thought
She just has to go down, to
To let it Move her
Let it excavate
— WOUND begins in November. You must do a call with me to join.
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