la louve à la lune ǀ the wolf to the moon
Original works of poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction and essays by A. M. Wilsonne
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mL8DaS5UGd0 How old was I when I buried my womb? How old were you when you started digging? I don’t remember,but I’m older now--I’ve been torn about lookingfor the unmarked grave where I hid it. Why now must the lost be re-found?Why return to this clearing of trees? I know why, though I'd rather not... Continue Reading →
Les hommes? Les hommes me blessent. Ils me blessent d'une douleur vive qui me pèsent le cœur d'un poids qui ne ressemble à aucun autre. comme je suis piquée juste à côté du fond du cœur par un couteau. Le sang coule Le liquide ne s'échappant pas de ma poitrine. Y'a de la pression qui... Continue Reading →
rolling, the combine harvester of a tractor along the thick golden bristles of her field below brewing skies, churning soundless over the harvest something of the silent beating of the machine against the grain, like a steady drum, lulls the clouds hope appealing to distress hope appealing to distress when things uttered cause things of... Continue Reading →
This piece is dedicated to men of my family, late and living, for whom the saying 'Men don't cry,' and all that this encompasses was a truism of manhood a sign of strength as opposed to weakness self-sufficiency and often also, in tone and context, superior to the "Alternative"-- Woman This piece is also dedicated to... Continue Reading →
Le bac à sable Je suis du sable suspendu, lancée de ma boite perspective étendue au-delà de ma compréhensionau-delà de mes conceptions de la vieau-delà de mes convictions. Je suis du sable suspendu, lancée de ma boite! jeté en l'air éloigné de la terre de tout ce qui est carré et connu https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eNXAGYR2Yeg&t=7s The Sandbox... Continue Reading →
