(recquiescat sum pace)

i told you i had a dream
about you being born.
you giving birth to yourself.

in my dream, i saw it perfect.
here is what i saw:

scarlet stained your ears
around the sides of your neck
spotting your cheeks.

your hair hung in ringlets flattened 'gainst your pale skin
while someone wiped the sweat from your brow.
your eyes darted madly round the floor and the ceiling,
clenching back tears,
pushing through the barrier
your knuckles and chest--whitened and taut
and the blood from your bitten lips stained them deep crimson
and what looked like sparks
startled me from the bottoms of those two limpid eyes
that burst from within you,
one morning
in a dream.

and in that, my most perfect memory
of your most perfect moment,

you were excruciatingly beautiful to behold.

when you awoke
the nurse introduced you.
her eyes were half-closed and her hair was like silk.
you touched her skin
and saw her eyes
felt her heartbeat like home
then she spoke

closely, so you could hear,
i strained to catch her voice
but you turned and you stopped me--said, 'stop it, you're babbling.'

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

in regards to my silence,
you said, 'stop it...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

you're babbling...