i sit with eyes bubbled squinted
taking in the shutter of his sorrow as he sees me peer down left
He has just walked out the door. I hope
he forgets about me for the day. The left sideways glance, the wavering base, the unforgiving mention of quitting of cowering. My tail tucked. I looked at him pleading.
give me The hour to recoup this tragedy of woman. in a seel tight room I chip walls and edges and creases searching for the wind that could wake me possibly propel me forward toward these two months.
i want a baby
but i don't want i to have it as i am now
i dont feel twenty-one or able to