Born of the Left

The girl isn't that bold
born of the left ovary
the right had exploded several years prior
when a much more exalted sibling erupted
through an ectopic pregnancy.

there are nights when the girls silently remembers
her mother sitting on the couch
comically crooning,
"And I don't even remember when I was your age."

but the girl remembers feeling wasted
by time and exhaustion and the sheer effort of living
and a time when she became skin and bones of emotion
because there were so many questions to be answered.

"Will you? Do you?"
No, but the girl dreams of crawling back through a gaping
cervix, up the side of the meaty uterus,
nailing through a delicate fallopian
and cuddling softly with the rest of the eggs

lost,
in an ocean of compassionate ovum.

(Compost Heap, 2010. rd)