| A memory of a scar
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| Taken from our precious coalition
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| Entering the realm of birth
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| I am summoned with the stillness
|
| A torturous welcoming bestows the precious enigma
|
| Cupped in my mother’s shaking hands
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| A frantic blur of flesh
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| Cradling an object only ghostwriters conjure
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| Her lips press against a figure so cold and blue
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| Sticky vernix coats her trembling mouth
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| Her eyes are sealed to erase this horror
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| The knife has spoken
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| Dissection and separation
|
| The knife has spoken
|
| Dissection and separation
|
| Neonate flesh is prepared for the great partition
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| Intervention with nature’s intentions
|
| Entering the realm of birth
|
| I am summoned with the stillness
|
| A torturous welcoming bestows the precious enigma
|
| Cupped in my mother’s shaking hands
|
| A frantic blur of flesh
|
| Cradling an object only ghostwriters conjure
|
| Years have passed and I cannot recall
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| Any of this agonizing episode
|
| Yet this scar on my side
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| Is the origin of my maker’s obsession
|
| In secrecy I study the forbidden diary
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| Her memoir unfurls a sewer of clandestine activity
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| I learn of the being torn from my side
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| I learn of the jar of preservation and nauseation
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| Deeply unsettling discovery of distorted malformation
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| Information i wish to remove from my mind
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| Now I know the beginnings of this scar
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| The hideousness of what came to be
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| What came to be |