Where is he? Mo fo. Gotta wait. 8 Centimeters and breaking water dripping.

So pleasant at the movies. Baby kicking, dreaming, not listening to all the noise he's making. He can't touch us here. He will never.

Hours pass. I don't remember pushing - just pain - and joy.
He never came,
but she did.
all I ever need
Her decision forged: a bloodweld
He can no longer pass

Blood is such a beautiful red
I pricked my finger just this morning and it centered me.
Caught up in digesting the daily, a drop of blood brings me back to the core.

A gravity, a rotation, a revolution around each other, caught in one another's orbit
Remaining willingly and unwillingly, forged in blood on one night of pain and bliss.

Bloodweld, child, bliss, wet, no cries, immobilized. I must have been trying but it didn't feel like it. Sunny side up they call it. What a trivial, happy description for bone catching on bone, a musculature-ly improbable passage. Impass, no screeching or scraping, just a slow paced agony as two human beings separate.

Then kissing a wet black haired head all is forgiven - pure love has been born.