My ode to growing old gracefully.
Originally posted on The Thought Harpy:
Ode to Menopause Her fan cuts the air The flutter of angry bird wings In terror flight, into the gloom of night She embraces the CHANGE With sweat, Hair drips, And a vociferous, “Puta madre!” Echoes, echoes… Skin, a sacrificial immolation An offering to the Diosa de las Viejas.…