At first, it was small and tiny,

His gift in my chest.

I did everything to stop it grows,

I through myself into storms, dangerous vogues. I fell from apple tree, I hanged my dreams from big ban.

Nothing worked.

His love inside my chest was growing,

I felt the kick, the spasm, the whirling joy and ache of yearning.

It became so big, bigger than my body,

my story, even bigger than planet earth.

His gift became my sun, my alone- ness with seagulls and shade of afternoon.

The senses were sweet and bitter, like a lime lemonade. 

I let his love to pour out of my heart, 

Wet my cloths and wash all my makeups.

I could not get rid of his love.

I cut my breasts and plant them below willow tree. 

I prayed every night, I ate porridge in mornings and waited 9 years for the child of his love

To born, 

Or perhaps it was my own child, the forgotten one, beside bushes and thorns of unworthy oleander.

It is Labor time, cutting the cord and letting love falls out of my heart and womb, at the same time.

Our new life is here,  as a family, as bodies of one.

The dream came true.

Flames are united.

Serena Devi

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