IN UTERO
Textile print by Linda Cox
“Feel here, it’s kicking
I think that bit’s its head”
“Well don’t poke it!
You might hurt it!
You’re pressing too hard!” he says
But it’s my body
They’re my hurts
And you’re not real yet
That you’re separate has never occurred to me
And I wonder now
If it will always be this way
When you take your first steps away from me
Or run for the hills instead of my arms
Will a part inside me tear?
Will it hurt like I’m afraid it will
When you’re too old to hold my hand?
More than the sickness
And the heartburn
And the blood to be?
For now
Fists have formed
Cells have ripened
Your eyes are open
And you’re lashing out
Taste buds blossom and flourish
You’re fattening up
In just a month
One whole splits into two
For you were never really me
Or mine
But even now
Eight months in
That disconnect
And yet connect
Are one and the same
A being in your own right
With your own whims
Your own pain and purpose
Growing still and always growing
Milestones and milestones
Leaving me
An empty pit
Where you used to be
A sack
I whined and bitched and moaned when you were in it
I take it all back