Sometimes I Speak to My Unborn Child

Poetry by G. Mae Aquino |

Wait for me, my Darling. Wait for me
the way I wait for your future father.
Wait for me the way seeds wait
for rain and bulbs wait for spring,
that moment when a switch
is flipped on and the world is brighter,
in Technicolor, with birdsong in the trees.

Be patient the way time has taught me
to be patient— with myself, with my hopes,
with the sperm donor who shall help me
create you. Sit in my subconscious
and fall in line with the other dreams
at the back of my mind as they join
the queue of things-I-have-yet-to-do.

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