It

It was easier to do it myself,

press it firmly between thumb and pointer

pull out its uncertain taste buds

a planet of blood takes its place.
Or I could wait my turn–
as the rest of the women wait on line
each one, sucking on pliers
tongues torn out like paper.
If I am to be silenced,
I much prefer to do it myself
so I swallow my tongue
before they snatch it away,
digesting every word, every protest
every scream sewed into the muscle
still living inside me.

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