Her Body Is My Compass

She is all womb: creator
of men and beasts.

All my curses
are filled with her laughter.

All my scars
are blessed with her salt tears.

And my deaths?
Her rebirths

into new oceans, new currents,
new spinning storms.

One day I am born
a new face upon the earth.

Another day I am snowfall
burying a whole continent.

All is alive
even in my deep sleeping.

She dreams me into life
with her every birthing.

If all were a womb
she is the mystery designer.

And if the world had a body
it would have breasts and wide hips.

// 09 Feb 2021

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