WEBVTT

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From now on, these are
going to be pretty heavy.

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These next couple.

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I tried to sort of
balance them, so you

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wouldn't be just sort of
breathless after them.

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I don't mean that as a
compliment to myself.

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Some of them are horrible.

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I mean that they have a lot
of horror in them, which

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is hard for people
to take, I think.

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This is called "Woman."

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The adobe walls of the
house clutched the noon heat

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in tin fists.

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And while bathing,
I fan my breasts

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and watch the nipples harden.

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I pinch them, feeling
nothing, but wanting to,

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and shift my weight
from left buttock

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to right, while the water
circling my waist tightens,

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as if you had commanded it.

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I stand up, spreading
my legs apart,

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ready to release the
next ribbon of blood.

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All right.

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You want me now this way?

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I haven't locked the door.

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My swollen belly feels
only its heaviness.

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You would weigh less than the
pain chipping away at my navel

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with an ice pick of muscle.

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I can carry you.

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The blood, halved and
thin, rolls down my legs,

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cupping each foot
in a red stirrup.

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And I am riding that invisible
horse, the same one my mother

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rode.

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It's hungry.

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It has to be fed.

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The last man couldn't, can you?

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