Tuesday, June 17, 2008


The viper coils low in my stomach
Releasing its poison
In a slow-burn
Growing, Consuming
Succumbing, I grovel and bow
Moist skin against cold tile
The serpent sleeps
But the poison burns
The poison burns


Anonymous said...

The quiet, slow spread of poison. Our own bodies become complicit in that process.

The Quoibler said...

This is one of the best things I've seen you write. Perhaps the painful aspects of pregnancy have acted as a sort of evil muse? :)

Hang in there...


Aine said...

Ugh. Every mom out there feels for you. But our words can't make the time pass any faster.

Is distraction helping? Keep finding things to pass the days... I hope blogging and writing are helping. Solitare was my saving grace through early labor...

Sarah Hina said...

You've captured that helpless siege so well. Those repetitive strikes are really effective.

I'm so sorry for your misery, though. And I hope it passes soon!

Beth said...

Morning sickness in prose. This too shall pass.

Minx said...

Poor darling, so unfair that growing new life can make you feel so ill. I have heard people who swear by ginger biscuits, bananas and custard or a baked potato with loads of butter. I just swore and waited until it had stopped.

SzélsőFa said...

It does hurt! Very energetic!
I'm sorry you had to come to experience this.

Jaye Wells said...

Lovely writing, but I hope the sickness gets better soon.

Beth said...

It's been a month. I hope your silence doesn't mean you're not better.

sexy said...
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