for 9 months i sat inside you...the embryonic nuclei of a haiku...
the tanka's first 3 lines...til' 31 contractions...birth me free flow...
through your cervix...
i suckled your prose through flows...nipples that nurtured me...poetically...
and watch your rhymes...become spine and hip combinations...
while rhythm's timin'...a watch dial on the back of your thighs...
percussion confined to tight jeans...a cue ball...who's pendulum swing...
breaks up bodega crews...like solids and stripes...
or water molecules in meltin' ice...
you break the mold...
fold the earth in your footprints...
shake the fruits from your poem-tree...fed me what was out of reach...
i thank you...for the understanding...
the tanka's first 3 lines...til' 31 contractions...birth me free flow...
through your cervix...
i suckled your prose through flows...nipples that nurtured me...poetically...
and watch your rhymes...become spine and hip combinations...
while rhythm's timin'...a watch dial on the back of your thighs...
percussion confined to tight jeans...a cue ball...who's pendulum swing...
breaks up bodega crews...like solids and stripes...
or water molecules in meltin' ice...
you break the mold...
fold the earth in your footprints...
shake the fruits from your poem-tree...fed me what was out of reach...
i thank you...for the understanding...