Ovaries

My mom drew ovaries on a napkin

and that’s when I learned

That one day I would be

Like the women hanging on the walls

 

And that’s when I learned

Bodies are more than potato sacks

Like the women hanging on the walls

There are layers and stacks of flesh, curves, blood

 

Bodies are more than potato sacks,

that’s why the delicate back is carved on the clay slab

There are layers and stacks of flesh, curves, blood

One day that would be me

 

That is why the delicate back is carved on the clay slab

And that’s when I learned

one day that would be me,

When my mom drew ovaries on a napkin.

 

 

© Copyright – All rights reserved – cardboardpoetry.wordpress.com – June 30, 2014

 

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