How does it make you
Feel that people can practice magic
With our bodies without even trying
 
It makes me feel
Terrified and holy
Without punctuation
 
I grow angry when I’m landlike 
Inseminated
 
I grew long and unmothered
 
But
 
Once I woke up a mother
And no one could unmother me
 
I could give and give until
I screamed with giving
 
My giving began in a soft place
My giving began full of yeses
 
Then poof and my giving
Just was
 
And a person I loved was here and I was replaced
With a person I had little feeling for
I dreamt him wordless then made him without words
 
The spell was in me and the spell was wordless
 
I end all my days now without words for common objects
 
I point and drag my throat behind
 
I gave up beauty
 
Not to say I’m no longer beautiful
 
I have my moments
 
It fleets and fleets anonymous behind its grocery cart
 
My poetics no longer involves itself with beauty, which isn’t truth, isn’t even
A virtue
 
I prefer the literal
One of the first words is mole 
 
Because of my 
Untidy body