writing

The Rocket Ship

I fixed ten thousand rockets
to a vessel like a mountain
containing only myself
three birthday cakes and
a chamber like a womb,
waterlogged and silent.

Affixed to the edge
was one spherical cage
not more than
twice
my space;

I am an ovum
wading through deep
space,
in a cocoon-shaped
monstrosity, and
fearing the light
at this speed, I

redressed myself in my
mother’s body
closed my eyes, and
waited to explode.

– C. Louise

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