I was held
For nine months,
Nestled by cells, flesh
And blood. Her body was
A fierce vessel of life,
Sustaining my beating
Heart. I felt her voice,
Through her there was me.
Her womb bled,
Releasing me into a
World governed by
production.
The hole between my legs
Qualifies me to be married
By twenty-seven, one child
A year later. I must
Work until the agonies
Of labor calls me
To deliver. If I don’t,
I’m not a woman. Hand it
Over. Resign or be a
Mother.
With you who shares
The same bed, whom I’ve devoted
My life, paves a road
For a script I now caress.
When I look into your smile,
I see our children laughing,
worry, a fact unknown.
You who holds my heart and its
Dagger, merges destiny with
Desire.
And one day,
when I am round
As a plum, you, whom lay inside
May bear this load,
That only life can reveal.
But I know, when it is time
To hold you in my arms,
there will be no greater
Fire than the one him and
I stoked.
You will reveal a world
of which is your own. And
You will be like the
Wind whistling north,
To rewrite and erase
on the walls
of which were torn.
Able to reject without
Threats of disapprove.
But for now,
your tiny palms reach out
with the shimmering hope,
Gently dissolving a space
I once rejected.
OMG loved this! Really nice work with great imagery, metaphors, and especially that last stanza. I loved the journey this poem took me on and I think you did an amazing job at bringing it full circle. Great writing on such a great topic!