In the hours of your discontent
Cut through the lining of my womb --

Each gush a new red lotus
In the snow white tub
Of all our winters
Water thins the Blood
Blood taints Water
  
In the hours of your discontent
Linger in the scent of iron petals

Flaccid limbs around your neck--
An embrace
A noose
A loosened tourniquet

In the hours of your discontent . . .