I Ate My Mother, 2020
I ate my mother and she told me yo chew slowly, breath slowly. I was delicate when I ripped open her belly, careful not to wrinkle her gown. There was no force needed to open her up. My fingers were lightly removing her guts, revealing the liver. It was incandescent and still full of life, warm. Absorbing her body within mine was a natural act. I was neither sad nor happy. And consuming her and assimilating her being was like a mandatory process. She did not complain. She just waited until she was fully within me.