Suyop, tulon, lutaw

I’ve been to the hole of madness and sanity.

They say its a mad woman’s quicksand
it swallows all it smells
every genitals and
sagging breasts and
silken legs and
twisted fingernails and
and cracking lips and
fetus
and
shrimps—

I stepped out of its mouth
with my dancing feet and
laughing hips and
screaming thighs
and
egg yolk and
saliva all over me—

There after,

I sprout
in the slides of poetry
to re-write a woman’s body.