Womb-borne, Womb-bound


I was born into a wilderness
Out of a womb shackled with
The World’s guilt. They let me live

Time feasted upon my Father
A crow, that old killer
A wet kiss, a promise made

Hunger has been a deception
All my life. Proffered fruit
Writhes in my hand, full of maggots

A temptress calls out a window
To me on a steamy street corner
I will hear her forever

Doors with dark orange exit signs
Barred with bone, diagnosed as
Failure to fire, a malfunctioning pistol

There is an appointed time
A reckoning, a rendezvous. To be
Enveloped again, returned to Mother

Artist: Raymond Douillet

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