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By Amy Bornman Poetry

The first pregnancy: “my belly growing big, for what? / no one can tell me what’s going on. / nausea I don’t understand, weeping / for hormones with no name.

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Dark Talent

By Natasha Oladokun Poetry

      The Piano, Jane Campion (1993) This, the ocean’s rustled babble— was it the first sound the first woman heard as she was cut out of another body’s desire, wet and sand-soaked as a shell pried out from the shore? How could it not have been thus— like now with you, expected one, shuttered in,…

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