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... baby girl ... keep their voices alive

A Testimonial. A poem from a dear friend of mine.

In and out my throat

Before my grandmother

climbed out the window

into her next life

she gifted me a pair

of sturdy silver tweezers

I grabbed hold of my lips

flung them wide

climbed aboard my tongue

stretching deep into

the rabbit hole of my throat

and plucked out

A piece of champagne coloured lace,

a dirty rag that looked much like my

grandfather's y-fronts, a weight watcher’s

pamphlet, a mens size 10 brown leather

shoe, a bible with newspaper clippings of

my siblings birth announcements taped

inside the front cover, a suitcase full of

vomit, an orange from 1941, a handful of

dirt from the outback of Australia, a pair

of ankles, a dried branch of rosemary,

a discarded uterus,

a baby girl

with hundreds and thousands

of words carved into her skin

the women in my family

driven to butcher their voice

yet somehow

keep their words alive

~ from the voice of Olivia


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