There's been a disruption
in your body's

p a  tt  ern,

b-r-a-n-c-h-i-n-g
river ways
                                                          ­                 form a road map,

             a
maternal
             mosaic,

z
i
g
g
z a g g i n g
                                  a   c   r   o   s   s

peaks
.
.
.
and valleys,

******* >
           bums ~
                   hips ~
                         and (~) tummies.

Vividly hued
in pinks or reds
or silver threads.

One-of-a-kind,
universal at the same time.

Glitter                                      stria,
      ­           shiny, sparkly,
oh-so                                     pretty.

  Worn with pride!
                                                          ­            Or do they hide?

They test you,
                      like any child,

REFUSING
to alter their behavior,

REGARDLESS
of how nicely you ask.

                          Baby's left her mark on you!

Love those lines
as artistic souvenirs,
acquired
on the long journey

                                                        ­               to becoming a mother.

                                    Like
                                    Love
                                    Letters
                    ­                they always have a story.

  What does your story tell?

https://squirrels2poet2queen.deviantart.com/art/C-section-714557319

UNPUBLISHED

I’m sick of crying ‘fore a scene
In a delivery room
When the father who was obscene
Realizes his ***** went through

It came and dried and released it
A child into the world it perforated
My mother’s belly. A decision an incision
Paternity eternity morality depravity

The ****** broke like Mom’s waters
Soft you once asked me if I had ever seen
A man’s walking *****, Solanas is less obscene
Everything I’ve never told you is burning

Dad from 0 to 17
Bitter is the thought of your existence
Linked with a silver ink I excruciatingly link
My despair to my abhorrence
From scene to obscene I remain your sin

Your daughter I am, the third of your children
You let them fade slowly, we fend and defend
Our roots we deny you, we cry for you
******* pulsating **** you ain’t my end

Nov, 11, 2017
Lyon