Academic journal article Women's Studies Quarterly


Academic journal article Women's Studies Quarterly


Article excerpt

Now we huddle in wet blankets. The fires made

are sufficient, less delicate. It began as you said it would:

immediate darkness. Then the world fell as

a sea upon us: womb askance, a whale eye thunder-

thickened. Waterglass plumes steeped in nickel

spiraled through canyon walls until a breath could not be

caught until we heaved from the sea, gasping, lungs

sliced into gills. Staffs of light broke across the plum

knee of sky and we trembled, still in possession

of our skins still in possession of these shells

around our necks. We muddled through this craw and cray

obedient to each specific horror as it appeared: pig's

head hanging, gale gory-eyed push of mire, stutter

of the ravaged greens, planked iron bodies, buttressed

spines, wolf bending to the soft bleat of boy. Sufficiently

in awe, we filled our mouths with ashes, singed our backs

in all places not yet singed. But it has been one year

now since the falling and frankly we have grown

impatient. Tired of our seaside wraith-walks, of the gray

and double-gray, of the zirconium murmurs at our throats.

Are we remembered? …

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