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Primitive Body Did I dream this cave or rhythms my body sensed in shadows? My four feet danced along a ring of fire, a circle burning like the hollow of lips around a dark mouth. Men were with me drumming skins. Women whipped their hair to a silent pulse. I woke to morning, a reservoir for blood, hungry to devour what I have lost. Taught from first breath to dress in masks of false desire, life became bare toothed. I grew into my body as though it were a strange filament, thin and highly spun. My womb stayed walnut size. an empty thumb print, a perfect zero hidden too deep for any dream to find. Now I'm become the older, hostile sister, a wolf mother searching for her young, hunted as in a fairy tale. My sleek coat threaded by moonlight. Now, I rouse, waking from circling dances around a young sun, heat a blessing in my arms. My unborn behind me. My silver hair spinning across tracks of my primitive body.
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