You are O!
she comments, as I pass her by
So pretty pregnant today.
Blossomed
they say, with a smile.
You have a sparkle.
Perhaps some women are made
to blossom
for naked silhouette pictures
empire waists
Pastel print jumpers
Not I.
Gravid, I am -
half-moon heavy,
full and round.
There is weight in me,
continents of curve and drift
a topography of breast
belly
thigh
Oceans within, wet
salt and dark
a tidal flux,
And deeply life,
its reptilian shift
moving against the primeval
I.
originally posted at thexaminingroom.com
White Coat
There is a press and pace of words,
ebb and flow.
We close our eyes to see.
Hands that pass hesitant and slow
hold scalpels poised,
flesh like any other
until now.
What mystic power does the mind possess?
Clad in white, solemn, young
and ready to learn.
We poise our pens and scalpels
and seek out healing
in the still equilibria
of death.
There is a press
and pace of words
and mortal minds
that strive to see.
We are flesh, fallible,
like any other,
even now.
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