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//\\//\\ Womb Series //\\//\\
1.
warm hands prod
my belly. i pray
for an answering
tap from within—
any movement
that may signal life.
he smiles patiently,
but his eyes deplete
me, elicit questions
of my femininity.
i have thick nipples,
and child-bearing hips,
yet my Womb
is only a legend.
2.
my Womb
is a mangled
ship in murky waters
—rusty/unmarked/
& tragically
still
3.
Notice
his hands
trembling
as fingers
amplify
the expanse
of her dark, flat
belly
begging for life
Copyright © Stacy M. Floyd
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