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Call it an escape — call it a release — call it my mother summoning me as she weaves her entrails around my breasts — gripping between my fingers and legs — planting me in her soil and nourishing me again.
Breathe & Be Still
Jenine Bsharah Baines
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Wow. Awesome imagery. Love your poem, B & B S
J…Jen…Jeni…Jenine... Proper names are poetry in the raw. (W.H. Auden) Poet, singer, seeker, hippie grandmother gleefully revealing herself
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