Black Moon Lilith: 14

I forget what it is I am supposed to be writing

lemon, apple cider vinegar

 

I am preparing to drain lymph in my kitchen

pressing, rinsing

 

I am so full this month, last month

a bloated stomach, a long walk

 

a dense fog over a roadway made of small stones

too slippery for my clogs, that is where I am.

 

I stare at famous people on the internet

until I remember what I am doing

 

I am feeling unsure about the shape of my pelvis

this is not the path I was talking about

 

the path I was talking about leads

to Poe’s room of portraits

 

I haven’t read it, but Cixous told me so

I write to invite stories inside of myself

 

for each my deaths

you can hang an image on the walls here

 

when you cut along the diameter of a leek

strips tumble from the center, loosely tied ribbons