For Tomorrow, Parting

She, the child, she, the universe.

Oh soft loneliness.

And her body, alone, again.

Sorrow swells in her belly

Full of water and blood

While she brings plasma to life,

To clone her destiny.

She stretches passion

Beyond walls of sanity.

Smelling softly of matrimony

She oscillates amid her moods

Swelling moistly under August heat,

She vacillates in summer misery.

Vanillin scent wafts from her womb,

Bathing her in narcissistic lymph.

Head bent toward her thoughts,

She mourns the crowded seed

And offers a certain sadness

To the posterity immured within.

Through her plump arms and breast

Courses a savage tenderness.

She, the child, she, the universe.

Oh soft loneliness.

And her body, alone, again…