#deborahmiranda

BY DEBORAH A. MIRANDA

This is how it is with me:

so strong, I want to draw the egg

from your womb and nourish it in my own.

I want to mother your child made only

of us, of me, you: no borrowed seed

from any man. I want to re-fashion

the matrix of creation, make a human being

from the human love that passes between

our bodies. Sweetheart, this is how it is:

when you emerge from the bedroom

in a clean cotton shirt, sleeves pushed back

over forearms, scented with cologne

from an amber bottle—I want to open

my heart, the brightest aching slit

of my soul, receive your pearl.

I watch your hands, wait for the sign

that means you’ll touch me,

open me, fill me; wait for that moment