I bear the full body of a woman
Who has born the fruit of man
The young ripped from my womb
See, the scars of war.
Look at me. Look at me
Am I not beautiful? That this body
Should be so endowed with life
That it can afford to thus
Give it away to others? My blood
My bones, my vitality?
Having sucked from the teet of cord
That which gave me independence
They crawled from me and set about
Sucking up the rest
'til I could see no more of myself
In yonder mirror than if I were a ghost.