in the end

we are all a woman

sitting alone in a room

with cold skin

a heart that stumbles

over itself

reduced to nothing

but our sex

our age

our disease

to waiting

for a procedure

for chemotherapy

feeling the rumble

of a baby inside

of a hot flash

the end

of another chapter

in our lives

we are pelvis and breasts

blood and sweat

wrinkled hands, soft skin

long hair

no hair

a witch

a warrior

our shield

our skin

our weapon

our tongue

our silence

telling

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