#NPM22 – The Intimacy of Morning Menses

The Intimacy of Morning Menses

I am coming, she says
arriving in the lower back, clawing

Punching holes in skin, rising in reds
her colour spectrum ripe

Pay attention to me, she whispers
crawling in the abdomen, knifing

She grips the mind and stirs it
takes away its clarity

I am here, she exclaims
planting in the ovaries, raking

She steals the breath and heaves it
laughing, swimming in the blood she brings

Her skirts soaking, her hair clumping
her sticky hands reach for my heart

I am miracle, she prides

I am miracle

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