Womb

8.13.22

Of course it is these days
these sick Saturdays
where I distract myself from
the stillness of rest
and alight my mind in the world
of another
of several others
and come to yearn
for my own world
born of my hands and my mouth

It is these days that I fear I am barren
Where I feel like a young woman
who wants, more than anything,
motherhood

What of my womb?
What of my womb?