When Listening Is Hard to Hear The voice of my body, once almost inaudible, grew to the pitch of a hospital siren when we were trying to conceive. I didn’t know how to mute the voice that spoke of every motion in my womb, the different scent of sweat approaching my menstrual cycle, the sharp
Fae Wolfe has an MA in dance & somatic movement and explores how poetry emerges from the origin of body. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming with Raising Mothers: Celebrating Black, Indigenous & Brown parenthood, The Bitchin Kitsch, and Button Poetry. She lives with her wife and their three daughters in Manchester, England.