She puts on a good face
if what she claims is true
not that she ever thought
of becoming a mother.
The road she takes
Won’t be to a house
with picket fence
the traditional 2 and a half kids,
playing on the swings in the back yard.
She never wanted
anything like that,
in a world filled
with other possibilities
, needing no warm womb
to give birth in,
only her unlimited imagination.
“Who has to change diapers five times daily?”
I almost hear her say,
“or wake up at 2 a.m
. to comfort a wailing babe,
let alone breast feeding in public?”
(she gets enough stares
from enough men
without that.)
And yet,
somewhere deep
inside herself,
that primal past,
mourns the loss,
this aspect of
human existence
we are bred to achieve,
to propagate
and continue the race
more than enough
challenge for people
struggling each day
to survive.
.
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