childbearing

Like a distant comet, like an unaffiliated atom,
you are drawing closer. A bun for this oven, a
coalescing star, a thousand possibilities, you are
coming to me. At night, after love, I think about
what I will give you. It is likely that you will
be stubborn. It is possible that you will
have a cowlick above your right eye. I wonder
if you will hate it.

I wonder what you will do to me, what I
will become as you become you beneath my
beastbone, behind my ribs. I am waiting for
that me that knows you, the me that will hold you,
the one who will draw you slowly from
the universe and one day, joyous and grieving,
set you free.