Conceived on Valentine’s Day, a poem
In the beginning, I almost hated them for bringing me into the world…
alone as egg, one floats weightless, drifting peacefully like a helium balloon,
and as sperm, one swims in ever-widening circles with serene joy.
I never approved the union: his tiny-tailed kamikaze wriggling to oblivion,
smashing headfirst into the mammalian membrane of her egg.
But now I love my frail universe; evidence of their short, fraught marriage.
They cooked me in the kitchen, first upon a midcentury, glitter-red dinette set,
then on gleaming, spotless black & white linoleum. I remember my mother
at that exact moment, the way she arched dizzily beneath him half-clothed…
her strapless formal askew, her silk stockings awry, her feet bare
after kicking off her spike heels. Barefoot & pregnant in the kitchen, she learned
quickly to live with organized madness. A love collision, a soft accident, birthed me.
She opened her soul to my father like a flower opening to the sun & he did the same;
my hands, my feet, my face suddenly called into existence by heat & explosions.
Just read it again. It gets better! And itâs so lovely without being maudlin.
Michael D. Lowe
Application Developer Analyst 2
UF Information Technology
PO Box 113359
Gainesville, FL 32611
Tel: 352-227-3101
mlowe@ufl.edu
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WOW Kimberly I LOVED this! You seemed to sum up the truth of the world in this one poem. Incredible work!
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As always, wonderful and ecstatic wrotting, Kimberly. I wish you a fabulous Valentine Day, hope you’re having a great time. Not much going on here, mostly work. Take care, all the best of wishes. 😉
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