Dried Fruit

October 4, 2009 § Leave a comment

My body is clogged. Rejecting. Purging. No hair yet, no fingernails, maybe a tiny nose, a growing brain. A mind like mine maybe. Swirls of poetry coiling up a tiny curved spine.

Maybe.

A raspberry with small grey eyes shriveling on the umbilical stem. My abdomen is a radiator, shaking, steaming. Tight and squeezing itself until it tears. I am melting from the inside out. Leaking liver, lungs. Little fingers still clinging to my uterus. Tiny pink O-mouth contorting like melting clocks, a silent gasp at death’s face. Inside me. I feel the sickle tearing through my inner organs. Mixing them. Berry jelly blurs of bloody pink and purple. My breathless lungs hanging above, two grey stillborns. They convulse under forced breaths each time I am slashed inside.

I carried a prickly pear.

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