Unborn
for astrid or helmsley, susanna or holden
virgin to the pain
skin not stained by blood that marches like ants
across
down.
closed pink folds
or
an unpolished tip
no tears of acid rain.
we havent heard your heart beat
undeveloped
not dead or alive
swimming through my mind
breaking circuits, cracking hearts
digging into the flesh, bleeding pink and frothy
smells like sadness.
lets see how you bleed.
not yet.
summer sun is fading.
soon it will be baking again
september.
9 months.
unborn.
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