Self | Portrait With Child

Age 44 and 21

1.
when the painted ladies hatched,
they adorned the habitat's thin white mesh
with wet red ovals of meconium; drank

our organic garden flowers and fair trade
sugar water. they flapped dry;
tasted our salty hands with their feet

then flew away.

2.
growth stains.

even an amoebae strains
to split the first time. spasms.
shudders. wastes no thought,

simply surrenders to being
torn in half. bodies jerky as gunshots.
an ephermal umbilical cord

tenderly pulls me inside out.