there is something ugly about the way you refuse to look at me
something pathetic and guilty and pious.

you refuse to look at me like i'm something you've never seen before
some hideous insect you found under a rock that surprised you
not like you were actually the first person to see me
the first to touch me
the one that carried me in the embrace of your stomach for nine months

the nine months that you took care of me
perfectly.

only because your body did it
naturally
once dispelled
i was on my own.