Woman-Child

Oct 01, 2008 - 06:59 AM PST

She is, within herself, nothing entirely mortal

A hot clay vase; cracked

A line burning down her side

Touching her withered soul that has seen too many summers

Too many tear-stained cheeks

The burning salt sensation resumes

A raw sort of cleansing that rubs itself against her arms and lungs

This hollow expression, this meaningless gesture

Full of promises unspoken

A kiss; a coupling between one and two

The earth shifts, as do the moon and sky

Tree branches wrap themselves mindlessly towards the heat

Green and bubbly life forms on consistently calm water

Insects tenderly pick at each eatable morsel

There is sweetness in the air

One that her tongue lingers on, yet she cannot describe

A remorseful fear that is rooted in her spine

Confusion and anticipation

Her hips shift, as do her stomach and breast

Limbs grow thin at first, then larger with every moon

Her belly swells and knows pain

Knows hunger

She whispers sugary things that feed the watery sea that grows within her

Daymonths pass

A startling eruption takes the roundness from her body

And one becomes two

She is now woman-child

Knowing the reason for existance

: She has felt heart-stopping love