How many times I’ve seeped through ivory bed sheets,
making love to the flavor
of curiosity,
to unmade memories
while moons sullenly sleep.

Full-wings spread beneath.
I am safe, cradled in neon
comets, exploring my own armoured body.

Here, he does not resist!
He lunges mercilessly to position,
white flags his army. What can he do?
He is near extinction and
I am a gaseous cloud awaiting creation.

His skin tastes like metal leaking from Niagara.
We create salicylic time together.
We boil the blood of every mother combined
and burst the planets into alignment.
My pale body shifts from empty to
alive, swollen with revival

I shift back to the moment,
the dark air,
the damp night…

with aching fingers I outline his heavy, warm shadow,
my galaxy multiplies by zero,
vastness torn…

I am stillborn.

8 thoughts on “Stillborn

  1. i certainly get the feel of this one Maggie. one can take this differently depending on how the reader wants to interpret it. Stillborn can relate to different areas in regards to life’s experiences. btw….thanks for the like to my latest piece. I’ve been treated as a nobody most of my adult life by those that are inferior to the way I think and by being different. maybe i’ll be a somebody some day. as to you and I that would be unique different. I like that option a lot better than being in the mainstream crowd where you get where my drift is heading….haha.

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