The Womb2021
The womb Rattles its pod, the moon Discharges itself from the tree with nowhere to go. My landscape is a hand with no lines, The roads bunched to a knot, The knot myself, Myself the rose you acheive — This body, This ivory Fragment of Childless Woman (Sylvia Plath)
- Released
- 25. 7. 2026
- Runtime
- 4 min
- Certification
- NO
- Country, language
- ES · EN
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