Something about the day before that photograph in which you’re standing on your head. from the frightening truth about desire by Daphne Gottlieb Coming together it is easier to work after our bodies meet paper and pen neither care nor profit whether we write or not but as your body moves under my hands charged and waiting we cut the leash you create me against your thighs hilly with images moving through our word countries my body writes into your flesh the poem you make of me.
I want to know about softball and the team picture. Touching you I catch midnight as moon fires set in my throat I love you flesh into blossom I made you and take you made into me. Miranda This is how it is with me: so strong, I want to draw the egg from your womb and nourish it in my own.
To scare up hope without fear of hope, not holding the hole, I will catch the superbullet in my throat and feel its astounding force with admiration. I must be someone with very short arms to have lost you, to be checking the windows of the pawnshop renting space in my head, which pounds with all the clarity of a policeman on my southernmost door. Her work has appeared in nine books including "The Bigger the Better The Tighter The Sweater: 21 Funny Women on Beauty, Body Image & Other Hazards Of Being Female," magazines including , and then she had the idea to make this place, and now here we all are!
To wish and not jinx it: to wish and not fish for it: to wish and forget it. In 2016, she was nominated for a GLAAD Award for Outstanding Digital Journalism.
Did she lactate again, milk brought down by a girl’s kiss?