the bones of my daughter
were knit together
by my words

cartilage thread wrapped
round itself, there,
in the hot bloody comfort
of my womb

and knotted tight. she was born

because i dared to speak life
into the brittle air

i breathed raw muscle
for her limbs
and taught her to move
with a flick of my tongue

and i thought once
that i could heal her
let her grow wild
in the shadows of my lips

but i let my whispers lapse

i was too tired
and in my silence
she unravelled at the seams

07/15/2004

Posted on 07/15/2004
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