Poetry

song lyrics & minor poems

Less womb than the skin suggests

Yes, my breasts are empty
I’m not granted with the means to feed you
… – Accidentally she cummed in
and now in my imaginary womb I breed you

This sad of a man
– how could he possibly know anything about mirth?... –
wishes for a gender-neutral motherhood;
His body benighted of feminine privileges as pregnancy and/or birth

Silly thing, Mirth, to get in me,
Spleen is your arch-enemy!
…Yet, that woman obscured in me,
is my spleen’s arch-enemy…