I had a baby but it ate me
I had a baby but it ate me
alive I think sweetly
at first heavy lidded
eyes under thick
lashes
sweetly kissing
my fingers it held
one by one until I noticed them
gone
and all around my home
fell down because I had no
hands to pick up and soon no
arms
the famished baby I had ate me
alive so I dropped the plates I had
to carry in my mouth the dustpan
empty rough drafts of poetry
piled in the corners while my
ankles and thighs filled those dimpled
cheeks it smiled sweetly so I
gave it my belly my lungs my neck
and my head was last (or was it
first?)
until I was no longer mother not
woman not human creature
but the mineral sustenance
that kept alive the baby I had.

Sometimes I rediscover a jem I’ve had in my collection for awhile. Today it was the Aquarian that I suddenly took notice of.





