Issue #11


Gaping cavern mouth, words forming in wombs
but no labour could push out meanings
as convoluted or inexpressible as these
contractions that wracked minds
and ripping muscle aches

in that moment imagination was enemy
preconception an anticipatory glare
or sweat beads upon the forehead
or gripping fingers on bedrails
digging nails into palms of expectancy

pregnant minds brooded foreboding
scanning grey blurred images moving
fragile shreds that tear like paper
torn roughly from the refill pad
white and waiting black engraving

then miscarried in congealed red
depths in secret insides become violent
inauspicious spitting and bile vomiting
scared eyes rolling and sighs and mourning
sickness in whispers panting infant loss

but exteriors were calm pools in the evening
bridges throw inviting handshakes over the lake
and harness shores together in assuaging truce
and all she said was ‘Hello’, walking calmly away

Anastasia Van Spyk