erika renee lanier
CHOICE
she was curled in a circle of bared still
skin on a silver tray at the end of my bed:
small, her hands closed
at her already paling lips. the room around us,
delicate, white curtains, the sharpness
of open windows, knives and cold water on my legs,
the doctor's words: your choice --
I imagined what my daughter's tiny shuffled sigh
would have sounded like, shattering as it fell, heavy,
touched the silver floor in one last shudder, the auburn
of would-be hair matching the blood that hovered
a breath or two above my spotless gown. My body
shook as I saw her, bright pink lids closing on blue
and when I woke,
my lover's hands were breathing my name,
wanting comfort in the small of my back
and his eyes, suddenly wide as my mouth,
gaping silence against a painfully rising sky --
| Current Edition | Previous | Submit | Editors | Join | Links | Contact | Sundress |
|
