the days wander through me: silent, wet.
three black cockatoos split the mountain mist.
i want, she says, and we smile.
nights sprawl with the unhushed sounds
of children milking the breast in long shadows, bed-
caves, butterfly sigh, a
small hand wandering my belly:
breast, flesh, breath.
were you ever afraid
of a bone-dry
be drenched by the milk of the
i forget you quickening
like last year’s pumpkin seed,
but the body’s inevitable love is enough.
you are the unfamiliar
heat surging in my veins, you are the
i am the villus, heartbeat, bone
in which you root.
my body wends an ancient path of blind
wise love, gestating you:
in primordial bloods of my love
black uterine seas of my love
holy blood of my love