Mandy May: Womb
Photo: Joanna C. Valente
Ode to the womb
Your rust red bitten lip
of exalted exhaustion;
a rotten pomegranate
of spent sentiment--
oh crib of honey,
blood love emptied you,
you a clenched fist of seeds
ready to bleed,
bleed out.
Spill a river,
a hot flush of
lust fed breath,
and breathe the singing
of hollow red ridge
edged lips drowned
and starving.
Oh scarlet cradle,
dry out.
Mandy May is a Baltimore MD based writer and designer. She earned her MFA in Creative Writing & Publishing Arts from the University of Baltimore and is currently working toward her Doctorate in Interaction & Information Design. She is the author of the poetry chapbook Magic: Moon Tides Sing Violet Petals (Babe Press) and co-curated Nasty: an anthology celebrating dark spirits (Babe Press). Her work can be found in Yes, Poetry; Ghost City Review; Moonchild Magazine; Breadcrumbs Magazine; The Light Ekphrastic; Baltimore Fishbowl; and elsewhere. She believes in ghosts, magic, and the splendor of a body failing. She has three cats.
