the rib-bone galaxy

when god was a teenager
rowing through her sea
of self-made hormones
she wrote in her lockable
diary: i must make a universe
some time. it might be beautiful
to participate in, but i should
like to travel it as a man
this time, a little angrier,
a little narrower than i am
now. then she clasped her
journal and waited for
time to loop back around
to when she gave birth to
herself, so she could alter
her pronouns and create
a world where the sperm
came before the egg


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