At her most fertile moment - Emily Dickinson day dreamed me into life.
In my most fertile nightmare - sticky, pliable, inviting - I aborted her.
She never existed.
Now what?
Christine Vyrnon -2009-
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- via Diane di Prima: THE ONLY WAR THAT MATTERS IS THE WAR AGAINST THE IMAGINATION
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2 comments:
now, darling-
there is but one thing-
aside from breathing-
that you must do.
bury her softly-
compost makes the flowers bloom
yes
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