To rise, to bourn, to set in
motion. I was born to birth.

There are all different
kinds of ways to abort.

Think of it as a pebble
you skip on the ocean.

That small. That in-
humane action,

of throwing some-
thing away, they say.

Control yourself,
but not your body.

I pooled blood in my
hands, for weeks.

It never stopped,
the bleeding,

the life inside
of me. I thought

I was only being
an unruly woman, 

incessantly bleeding. 
Florida demands, control 

yourself, but not your body.
Blood kept begging to leave

my body. It left and left
me until I bled to death.

about the author

 Clayre Benzadón (she / they) is a queer (bi /pan) Sephardic (Mizrahi)-Askhenazic poet, educator (adjunct professor) and activist. Her chapbook, “Liminal Zenith”, was published by SurVision Books in 2019. Her manuscript, “Moon as Salted Lemon” was recently named an honorable mention for Miami Book Fair’s 2025 Emerging Writer’s Fellowship and will soon be published by Driftwood Press. She has been published in places including Jet Fuel Review, Libre, and SWWIM. Find more about her here: https://www.clayrebenzadon.com.