Mim Murrells & Sasha

Content warnings: vaginismus, medical trauma.

Focus

I sit, straight-backed,

Femorphous, for the first time in my life.

I am more beautiful than I have ever been,

spine in place of a sweep of hair.

The reading is a poem about dying,

and the sea, that great eldritch broth

that boils up Hermaphroditus,

throws forth Venus,

a silken tie, blood moon-drawn,

a tether, I was born wearing

it around my neck like the umbilical cord,

legs too weak to kick the chair out.

Primordial sea, starless, aged as a god,

offers history in ribbons, empires as tokens,

and I am drawn to Eve with my toes in the water

as I test.

Image ID: A painting rendered in rough strokes. The torso of a medium skinned, breasted body stands on the right hand side of the image caught from shoulders to upper thigh, three quarters of the way forward, turned to their right. The overall impression of the body is soft. Full breasts, soft middle that pouches slightly, and dark public hair all against a background of red.

Examination

I spread my legs fearful so that the doctor may peer inside of me,

as if she is scrying.

Her finger finds a place, and pushes,

and I am in

for the first time in my life

pain.

It is as if she is probing the void.

as if I would keep a black hole in between my legs

if I was in possession of one.

I pray that she gets sucked inside.

Image ID: A second painting of similar construction. The torso of a person from ribs to upper thigh faces the camera. Medium skin with dark, full pubic hair that extends onto the thighs, thinning out as it travels up and above the umbilicus. The area around the figure is red.

Compulsive

You met my head as a planet wrecked, the meteor still embedded,

held your breath as the foundations crumbled, the quicksand of the gums

giving up its dead or treasure

with the curl and fold of my tongue.

My teeth craggy monuments raised on stilts precarious

in the moon-crater,

the jutting animal serving dish of my jaw,

proffered in the years to come – the delicacy of my fear,

held forth like a shield,

or a battering ram.

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Mim Murrells is currently eighteen years old and an emerging lesbian poet from Essex, England, where they live with their four cats. You can find them on Twitter as @mmanyhandss for updates on their forthcoming work and their general mess.

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Sasha (he/they) is a writer and artist from India. Their work focuses on queer experiences of body neutrality, mental health, and sex. They have also been documenting their transition online for a few years now. They can be found on

Instagram @gendertrunkcreations