my mother was a pica.
my grandma too was a pica.
 
we are the daughters of pieros and our throat is red.
our bodies are made for singing.
but we are damned to only snarl and cackle
since we foolishly played with the muses.
we demand penance and follow this vengeful rage
with abusive clamor till repayment.
PICA PICA
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PICA PICA

/// Contribution to "Pure Fruit #2". Inspired by a tale from the fifth book of Ovids "Metamorphoses".

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