In the struggle for flesh
you have made me your own.
That battle was won 
in the dark tunnels 
my belly has to offer.        
You slipped silently 
past the attention 
of my passion, 
an invisible tenant 
demanding my body 
and the best of me. 
My ways are threatened 
by commands to reform. 
I give you my dreams and habits, 
my self-image: 
the stranger in the mirror. 
She will hold a globe
under her breasts, 
a world that knows 
its own time. 
Now you are nameless, 
a lump in the throat, 
awake at 2 a.m. 
when I don't know 
who I am. 


for my daughter, Sangye Land     
4th months pregnant
Mt. Shasta, CA
from ‘Lovebird’ (an unpublished manuscript)