Tag Archives: pregnancy

Faith

“Love set you going like a fat gold watch.”
Morning Song, Sylvia Plath

But it would be weeks until I saw the
Black and white flicker of your real, live
Heart, its muffled whoosh, whoosh, whoosh

While your father stood dumbstruck by
My navel. We held the first, glossy evidence
Of you in our hands. We turned it over like an

Old photograph then plastered it on the fridge.
I giggled each time I reached for the milk, his
Working hands holding me, holding you.

I framed your progress all over the living room,
I showed you off to friends. My grandfather smiled his
Big, proud smile and tried his best to meet you.

I think he held you before I did. I’d barely imagined you
Before you became a beautiful, squawking thing,
A helpless masterpiece. You speak in foreign tongues

I struggle to understand. I dream you’re speaking to him.
At night your moon face makes me believe in something
I never did. I press one hand to your cheek, the other to your father’s.

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who I am and who I will be

I am having trouble
imagining you outside of
my imagination
outside of my own skin,
you are still so much a part of me
that there is no explanation
for the waves that move
without routine between my bones

your eyes are still all
clouds and smoke –
I dream of your mouth
like cinnamon
that will bow,
that will open
and call out for me

this foreign, self-defining thing
I’ve put up on the mantel
and dusted like some
undeserving prize is
something too surreal to
take down, to examine too
closely for detail, I am
so afraid it will slip smoothly
between my fingertips

for now you are still
the loveliest figment
nestled between who
I am and who I will be,
this small thing, this
awkward fleeting girl
with the readjusting
heart for you, my son.

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heart incision

at night you place your hands

on two lives that thrive for you.

 

trek this globe,

this mother earth,

make a heart incision

and find there just how

much devotion is keeping us alive.

 

there are love notes that reach out

like sunlight towards the surface of my skin

 

and

 

you are removing

the hair from in front

of my eyes like curtains

through which we see the world

 

while I am thanking you

in infinite possibilities.

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Fullest

I have never

been more aware

that we are dying than when

my body came full as a

banquet – there are

new roots that run from

every fingertip I am

swollen, full and only

thriving, easy even on

my own green eyes

in the bedroom mirror

and my whole self is

a terrified power house,

I have never tried so

hard to be alive now I

can feel it in my blood

in how my husband

cups our whole world in

his hands just beneath

my paper skin I lay my

own hands on our future,

I am shifting, busy living

to the fullest, truly.

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