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a poem by Anne Champion


The night you left the blood came
and didn't stop for three weeks
I pulled out clots large as pecans

dark as sin everything was blood stained
our sheets my thighs my thoughts your lies
I knew we'd lost another baby

but I couldn't help but think
that my body was weeping for you
my God! look at the moon

illuminated so brightly tonight
that it shows all of its bruises
dark like your shadow that fell

on me slow slow slow
an eclipse that blinded
and fuck if I'll cry for you

so my womb goes berserk
because it aches always for another
like all irrational things do

except the women who left your bed
in the middle of the night
hearts unscathed and you shrugging off

their touches like flies
I never snuck out of your bed until
the last time -- I ran

hot baths and let the red pool
in a cloud between my legs
steam smothered me gently

like a pillow and I dreamt of purity
a hot knife scooping out leeches
sharp-edged and merciless

like the men who visited me in visions
each looked different but every one
was you it was you it was always you

© by Anne Champion
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #28 ~ October 2013    return to top