Fragment #12 Menopause

She danced a dance of hot flush, cold shivers , of rage and soothing. She danced the last dance of fertility .. a last dance to a long lost goddess; a deity that existed thousands of years ago , when we were hunters.

Dance in a white slip under a crimson red light in an empty space.

Dance to the tune of a crying piano, a weeping violin …

Yet dance to the tune of raging hormones.

Dance in memory of the last egg.

Dance till you feel in peace ..

Dance till you are covered in sweat

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