your american daughter with my blue eyes

your american daughter with my blue eyes   October 2, 2016
i dream of a child stillborn
unborn in my womb
and dead.
she does not move.
it’s 5:44am
and my night shirt
is soaked in cold sweat.

there is no infant in my arms
and no husband to hold me in his.

i will not tell you this dream
for how could a man understand
these tears i will never cry
for the child you never made in me?

i think she was your blue-eyed
american daughter. the one
with your egyptian chin and arabian
nose and my red irish hair
but still blond and bald
because all my babies
are born blond and bald.

either way,
she is dead
and like my heart
has only my womb for a grave.

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
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