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Lily at 14
Lily lies on the earth more lightly than
morning,
open to the newness of this dawning day.
Her young breasts and thighs soften, they
sigh
over the lost angularity of her body.
Blood weaves a lullaby into her womb,
teaching her to dance with the moon,
to ebb and to flow with the seasons, with
tides.
A woman's hand cradles her head.
A woman's hand on her diaphragm
rises and falls with the rhythms of breath.
A woman's leg stretches luxuriously out from
her hip,
but somewhere in her girlhood, a child's
foot
tucks itself in under her knee, as if seeking
shelter within the woman she is becoming.
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©
1995-2023
the Real Women Project
Created on: 02/09/02
Last revised:
04/04/07
Web site by
Outside the Box
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