MATERIAL PEARL ❋ Jeanette Beebe

She

took the first dose
of estrogen under
her tongue,

and waited for it
to dissolve.

She

stood at the shelf
between two rooms,
a body

that surpasses itself,
the parts she

was born with,
a body that’s pliable,
but not

infinite, not too,
a body not.

She

stayed back, closed
her eyes, breathed in,
out, herself.

On the bed of her mouth
sat a pearl.

It was a thing for becoming.
It tasted so. It tasted sweet.

A weight. A place. A container.

She swallowed or yawned,
and the pearl was gone.