to the unborn and waiting children

i went into my mother as

some souls go into a church,

for the rest only. but there,

even there, from the belly of a

poor woman who could not save herself

i was pushed without my permission

into a tangle of birthdays.

listen, eavesdroppers, there is no such thing

as a bed without affliction;

the bodies all may open wide but

you enter at your own risk.