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58 B lue A ir Lemon Belly I lie on the table gripped by hands, squeezing my belly like a lemon. Juice drips while I flatten and scream like a witch in water without power to say stop only for a minute, let me lie down, let me get up, let me sleep, let me lie awake, let go of me, you, you, and I am caught again by the grinder, until, like a rag doll, I am thrown away, and she nudges from between my legs, tiny body flows out, burning fire fingers touch me raw, naked, whimpering. Her blue eyes open to blot out the hours in the vice. She nuzzles for milk like a kitten. I can hold this kitten in both hands. I can say, I made this, like a chicken with her egg. I can walk around her clucking. ...

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