we flow from the water

into the same water

born we are

to be unborn

in the history

of our kind of mankind

despite about two generations

of slogan-shouting

we settle in

with bread-making bed-making

and fear what they would say

if we say what we are up to

in our untamed dreams

that drown by mornings  

in the womb of waters

which a daring daughter must flood out

and unstitch the thread

needled through the mother’s motherssss lips

to keep them from laboring

over-ripened lives

conceived alone

by many a virgin marys

the word is pregnant

yet again: this time not to die

an unnatural death


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