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The 12 Womboids
a short poem by Carlyle Miller
7/27/99

If I could be another form of birth

Within this piece of peaceful womb

I'd stretch among my mother's flesh

Curl up like an embryo

And leave my fantasy

To the stars

There is a special peace here

And I will ride on it till forever

Opens its gaping mouth

To spit me out

Into the world

I leave her blood for better being...





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