puella aeterna
I looked just like Sleeping Beauty
laying still and narrow on the tray
when the doctors dissected my ovaries
then incinerated them.
As soon as my incisions healed,
those little frowns,
I went right to work
seducing the strangers
who crawl up holding
their money in their mouths,
and returning them, sated,
to their warm orange hearths`
I drip into other people’s families
with my own infinite desires like
slime on wallpaper
Watch me reproduce my self
a photograph recurring in your dreams
with a rose between my teeth
and my breasts pointed skyward
and my core tight as a fiddle string,
a girl straddling the crescent moon
Sascha Cohen is a writer from Los Angeles.
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