heaved into being
                              like drumstick
                              like wing
                              not run not flown

Chewed to a speck
indentured to a thought

                                                 : I am :

placenta and rot
I am séance
and rattling chair
I am convulsion
red joy and worry
colon and throat

I am all
that passes through me
whether it be love
or the rumor
that scratched my name
on an eggshell.

Image: Robert Zunikoff on Unsplash

Published in The Closed Eye Open — Maya’s Micros Edition 5, January 2021:

9 thoughts on “Nascence

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