The Process '05
My ovaries ache
I feel the cold
A childless body
While I grow old
As I whither
They will too
So I lay back
And wait on you
Always waiting
As season pass
Change their shape
Reshape our love
Poke and prod
Feed and plump
Turn what’s flat
Into a bump
Seed and prune
Ready to pop
Apples on trees
Groaning to drop
Fruitful pain
Wrapped up inside
My womb, a tomb
For an unborn child
Copyright © Naomi Jenkins | Year Posted 2008
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