Mother and I undress. Undoing myths, speculating on food as a supernatural vehicle. We eat and spit out, bleeding pomegranates on the snow. I serve her childhood recipe, ‘risotto al latte’ (milky risotto). Roles are exchanged and transformed through the ritual, rejecting the symbolism of fertility to amend the curse; oppressed mothers with sick daughters were oppressed daughters of sick mothers, it's not our fault, nobody told us. We attempt being born again, this time together.
