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Sunday, March 2, 2014

Some Bells Should Ring



you were born on Easter
toes small as peas, hands clawing the air
my womb collapsing with the sudden emptiness
blood spreading like night beneath me

surely to god you’d think
at least some bells should ring

fourteen days and I signed the papers
stepped out into sunlight
that melted over me like butter
my breasts still weeping
my womb still bleeding
your hands, I’m sure, still reaching

surely to god you’d think
at least some bells should ring

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