Madonna, and White Coat

by Nykki B

You are O!
she comments, as I pass her by
So pretty pregnant today.

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
Oceans within, wet
salt and dark
a tidal flux,
And deeply life,
its reptilian shift
moving against the primeval

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.