Removing Uterine Control

Open me up wide
with a metal beak
to reach my inner
female sanctum.
Pencil thin,
long as an arm,
metal needle?

To tug the strings
of anti-ovaries.

Why must it hurt
so bad?

Infection,
look out for
a fever–
call back for
rattling bottles
not for milk.

The metal beak
clicks as it rises
ever higher,
widening
ever more–

Drugs.
Drugs for the bacteria
the pain
the unopened womb.

–my tender place.

An infant’s place.

To tear me
for just
a check up.

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