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 Patricia McMillen
Dark Night

O sharp-edged poem, square-headed,
unrepentant: in giving birth to you
I sustain further damage.

In bearing you, awkward, malformed
lines, my unhappy womb
stretches into ever more grotesque

shapes; the edges of my mouth
rip and bleed.
You emerge at the wrong time

and place: back seat of a taxicab,
deserted cornfield in the dead
of winter. Uncalled, uncalled-for

child disowned by your father,
you leave me bloody,
cracked and resewn. Yet you

are all the child I’ll ever have;
grateful, I press your hard mouth
to my breast.