Fragment #1

the tampon disintegrated along my cervix
soft shards of meat-soaked cotton
shredded paper turns to rice in my hands.
the kind of rice old men write on with tiny pens
hard grains, I rinse them off in the sink
peer down and squint.
HA, says the first one, wriggling off my palm, then--
Haha and HA and Hahahahahahaha
palm full of tiny, squirming worms.