once the gushing stopped I got a good look at him—
at the boy I mean—he crowned this morning
that bloodless god took blood from me & lord he fumbled blind
like a puppy for my milky-eyed nipple
teeth ached & we stank in the filth of us
our new faces, slipping mess of skin limbs
thighs crusty with birth, I crooned sweet boy I loved
you before you came but quick as spit
a picture took my eyelids. it showed him grown
striped shadows eating at his sides, temples red & shining
maybe the delirium of ghosts talking but they talk truth sometimes
so I prayed you will not let him die
cleft or possessed by that terrible sight
I told God for safe-keeping damn that picture to hell, not while I’m alive
hours later I’m swooning like a drunk at his moony fingernails
nose the down of him who turned me butterfly wide
kiss the needy pleats of his eyes—my child
& whatever I mean to say turns sandy
& out comes something else
like an animal birthed on all fours fully-formed a please I never
consented break it on my bones
break that prayer on my bones
Laura Traverse
Laura Traverse is a poet from New England. She is a divinity school grad, doula, and MFA student.