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Full Moon Motherhood When mucous stretches every fourth week, Jenny sees the fingertip where Daddy should be; wet by the purple wall she sticks ready to be red whooshed through the sewer into a Playtex Maxi under the hairs. Palms on my stomach, I touch Jennifer with maybe green eyes and maybe red hair, to be gone with the full moon to lie in a Hefty while I wait for the ache again and the gummy white that is maybe Jennifer.