Your slit so like mine:
the woman of it,
the warm womanwide of thigh,
& the comfort of it--
knowing your nipples like mine,
& the likeness of it,
watching the mirror make love,
& the lovematch;
the mirror of you
in me.

I have creamed my hands
in the cave;
I have known my mother.
Years to get past
the barrier reefs of words.
We were natural together
as two little girls in the bath.
We hoped to be women someday,
we hoped to grow up.

© Erica Mann Jong

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