Extraordinary Machine

I contain multitudes, and so do my breasts. And there are no contradictions

I call you out on a mild day in May, I call you out like a sudden bird, I call you out with whispers and bells, I call you out with strong hands and slippery limbs, I call you out by way of ocean-born winds, I call you out north to south, I call you out to what is yours, which is me and whatever is mine

Good trick

I’m laying in bed in sheets wet with amniotic fluid, 8 am mourning dove and hummingbirds, a few gentle aches radiating. I’m trying to rest but I’m very excited. I’ve eaten toast.

So my mom noticed me crying about what the lady said to me and my mom said just be okay, have confidence in everything

Ok when should I have a baby

Not weird in that I’m subverting poetic form or challenging cliches . Weird in that I’m speaking aloud like a loud thing, my most evil impulses, my toxicity, my unloveable love