Pregnant

They reside in that exacting void inside

where nothing can confide with you.

All ideas have been rejected by them there,

in their claustrophobic air,

as they wait for you to share 
their bodies with your waking consciousness,

quaking to break out like messy untoward little

bangs, babies of the Big One that awoke you

from paralysis, immune to all deductions

and analysis: creatures that no exegesis

could have helped you to have known -- features

that no amniocentesis could have shown.










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