Academic journal article Hecate

Mis-Conception

Academic journal article Hecate

Mis-Conception

Article excerpt

The first barnacle appears two inches to the left of her navel. And now, inside her house, the water rises. Neap tide in the kitchen, shin deep. Saucepans boat through chair legs, this one a sea captain's hat for a child, that one a queen's crown. Capillary waves feather the surface in concentric circles, obscure infant oyster-beds by the culinary island, reduce schools of red minnow to rust streaks. Water swirls her calves in iron-red rivulets. She squats by the sink, watches the baby octopus jet from wall to window, tentacles streamlined.

Belly-deep in the bedroom, barnacles brood her breasts, ring her neck. Cross-currents close serpentine waves like scissors, water foamwebbed from trough to crest. She ignores the sudden extrusion and then displacement of water, the shadow sharking the corners. Wet to the waist and window gazing, she tosses crab shells at the moon- that slim-bellied alien mother. Barnacles swamp her vulva, buttocks, spread her thighs to the napes of the knees. …

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