At
first,
you were
a poppy-
seed-sized zygote, pinned
to my uterine wall. Then, your
cells divided; you grew to inhabit your cozy
sac of amniotic fluid, while, from within my body, you did downward dog, danced,
leaped, twirled, and sang, though for you, music was muffled by my heartbeat, overlaid with the
whoosh of blood; and in this way, you became the size of
a plum; later, a plump pumpkin
who'd wear striped newborn
hospital
pink-and-
blue
hats.