Little deer, I've stuffed all the world's diseases inside you. / Your veins are thorns // and the good cells are lost in the deep dark woods / of your organs.

Pascale Petit

Mots clés poetry painting frida-kahlo little-deer what-the-water-gave-me

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I am what the water gave me, / a smoke-ring in a jar, / the braided rope / my ladder-to-the-light, / my shivering bird heart / caught

Pascale Petit

Mots clés birth frida-kahlo

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