Writer: Zoë Porter-Parsons
Artist: Fletcher Aldous

There are vaginas

On my floor, staring.

I wonder if others 

Notice? Lips, slits, 

In the floorboards? 

Probably not, that’s 

Just me… yonic 

Vision, what if the 

Women of history 

Are sucked up by 

Roots, reborn, this 

Their only evidence? 

Carolee Schneemann 

Pulls a scroll from

Within her private 

palace made 

Public for art’s sake

& the sake of woman-

Kind. Printed across 

Pages of history and 

mind, writhing bodies

Doused in paint or 

Blood catch the 

Light. Cassandra holds

Up the torch and the 

Women of antiquity  

Join in the dance, 

Twirling & twirl-

ing in the burgeoning

twilight,

                  Ecstasy!

I lie on the floor, 

Joining my sisters in 

Lush meadows where

Knots are growth. 

Aunt Jennifer now

Embroiders roiling 

Sex scenes that make 

Anais Nin blush, ah

How far we’ve come… 

Floorboards are 

Hard when they are 

Dead. We bask sweetly 

In Ethylene, welcomed 

She feels the weight of

Breasts & 

Already knows 

Before she knows.

Daisy-chain crown, 

Smile of liquid 

Gold, X repeats and she 

Knows. I have a room, 

With vagina inscribed

Floors, it is my own 

(Vagina, Virginia, 

Virgin)

My mum wears pants 

And picks jasmine to 

Put in a vase. She lies,

next to me on the hard-

wood floor.