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placenta
the cord – unbroken, the river flows from her delta colored water, translucent rainbows flex and spill and marry themselves to the tiled floor.
so it begins, naked and cold, sterile air stabbing its lungs, latex fingers purging every orifice.
so it began for me, unbreathing, looking downward at the blue plasma that carried me, its entrails sliding from my skull the staccato beat of the doctor’s palm on my back, the cries of my mother and the chaos of the moment – completely lost on me.
little one, I hope its not true, that this too will follow you – the delta of your origin, the waterfall of life and the search for the memory of that first gaze into the colored myriad of the curtains that carried you.
born not into life, but out of it slowly dieing to the search of your goddess and the gelatin of her ocean.
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