My womb dreams
Of careening crimson ribbons,
Of bleeding ripe petals,
Of sloughing and sighing,
Of meandering streams of melodic melancholy.
That sacred stitched space of fecund shadow and halcyon hell,
Dreams of shedding its skin of memory
And its gauzy forgettings.
*** Be careful with all of that blood loss, Angel Eyes.… ***
*** I never worry about blood loss…. ***