Gravity
towed that dark mass from my girl’s womb.
She splashed against the toilet bowel. I wonder if she had
an innate sense from nature to tense up and brace for
impact? Either way, it weighed on me, that loss of life, that loss of
connection like a cinder block bound to my leg as I
clung to two straws while drowning.
Gravity
made those red swirls
sink. Pieces of her sealed the
cracks winter carved inside that toilet bowel.
But, the cracks in who I am remain, gravity.
Gravity,
I’ll never receive comfort here.
Therefore, each day
wrench down harder on my
leg with that heavy, sagging
cinder block,
gravity,
so one day it will pull me under and I will understand the
gravity of it all.
SAY8
