life size
*previously published by Rhythm & Bones
when I was 12 or 13 I saw
a diagram of the uterus
that ram’s skull painted in
blood and tongue color
and I imagined it immense,
filling me from hip to hip
I was surprised to find out that
my birthplace—that place
where we all nestled like
the yolk of an egg
all slime and yellow
sprouting downy—
can fit in my palm, tubes and bulbs
flickering like fallen power lines
and my lungs, too, are small,
which surprised me just as much
because at 12 or 13, all girls
know the bleed and scream
look at their bodies and think
this image is not to scale
Rebecca Kokitus is a poet residing in the Philadelphia area. She has had poetry and prose published in various journals and was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2018. Her poetry chapbook, Blue Bucolic is forthcoming from Thirty West Publishing House in 2019. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram at @rxbxcca_anna, and you can read more of her writing on her website: https://rebeccakokitus.wixsite.com/rebeccakokitus.
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