Butterfly Effect - ressourcesfeministes

8
shouts Gertrude, climbing the hill.
A stone shouts as her belly lifts to the sky.
A stone is carved with the image of a
flowerbud on one side.
Gertrude runs her finger across the stone,
lightly. Primitive fantasies,
mutters Freud. Vulvas on the
walls of caves,
caves as vulvas, wet roses—
all primitive fantasies.
Only the phallus exists,
adds Lacan,
staring out the window to where
high-rise buildings dominate the horizon.
Not far away a high wall divides
an ancient city.
At the base of the wall, breaking through
the mortar, a flower grows. Its anthers exposed
to the earth just as Baubo did on a
spring day long ago.