Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Attempting pregnancy at 40

Conception waves at the windows. 
Moons adrift in a honey-flavored ebb and flow, 
comb the bed with sticky fingers. 

This is the new night canopy, 
a darkly sweet sting rippling beyond the panes. 
I can hear the clock's flickering tongue,

smell the late season flowers blossoming.
See the veins rivulet the body like tiny blue eggs?
I have a peregrine's eyes.

I am listening to the skin aching for the stretch.  
Last night I dreamed a ruby-throated bird drank 
the whisper of promise from my ears.

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