Once she was a mystery of life Now she is skyping with her friend They are both childless It rings a hollow tone: childless No longer a mystery of life. Just less She found stretch mark cream in an Airbnb bathroom It was just cream Rubbing it on her belly, she felt nothing
I was just an accident I was just an accident I was just an accident, even to myself
She is curious about crying nipples To her friend she finds herself saying: "I wonder how I've managed to avoid conceiving You know, by accident So many years. So little fruit You know, maybe I would’ve just kept it Probably, I can't even do it", she says She eats dried figs from a container
I was an accident I was an accident Once I was an accident, and a mystery of life
Once I made people believe in miracles, or God, or love I was the hour of the star I moved like a jellyfish I smelled of nothing And she was told she was the closest Her mother came to magic She is made for other things Born for cubist yearnings Born to write. Born to burn
She is an accident She is flesh in dissent She is an accident A curious androgyne She is an accident Flesh in dissent Flesh in dissentTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
