happiness
i cradle this newborn,
this fleeting thing
and drop her headfirst
on the marbled tile.
her skull cracks.
i see a serpentine gap
in her cranium,
greenstick,
red blood,
white cartilage.
the pool grows
as she goes into
the next life,
and i am comforted by the fact that
in other cultures,
innocence is honored.
her ears will never hear
old mcdonald
or miles davis,
her tongue will never taste more than breast milk
and rubber.
a shame.
she had so much more to discover.
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