She translates herself
into a virgin.
The milk that would have fed
the god
flows from her breast
with the fluidity of modern French.
“Tu J’adore Monsieur Cochon.
You love me!
You love me!
I travel on to mystic shores," she sings.
"La fleur de lis stitched to my heart,
The door to oysters’ sustenance awaits."
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