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So her womb brought forth the beginning, all the fake friends had blurred into a Picasso
Looking peripherally at her
Not a single card
And she felt nothing other than ice wind wish comforted the sudden and welcomed warmth growing within her
She dressed in onesy and fought the North stares and hands of red, by walking 6 miles with child
Every day muscles forming in solar plexus so she knew with this reaching of leaves, breath into her lungs
That the push would come easy
He would fold from between her legs to scream into the heavens
Announcing his being of dance, light, song, rhythm and blackness of skin
Covered in womb blood dripping into Spring day to anoint flowers
He was he as she knew and named him ‘’Christopher’’
She whispers bending to kiss the bump bearer of Christ, walker or curiosity, Lord of walking paths
Loneliness was gone. Ridden into the night on the back of wild stallion
Her beauty became more and the man at the Light of India tried to brush his hand over her stomach to her sacred Whilst clothed
Recoiling she glares and tells him
There is nothing more precious than me right now
Remembering mother
Remembering head under bosom
Remembering nothing
Seeing knitted baby bonnet
And sweet sweet reproach
She is alone
She is single
She is raped
But he is real and she is real and the earth cracks in formation
Like the bottom of her weathered heal
