soiled and purified.

Summer (of childhood days)

with sticky melting ice cream resting
into the creases of my fingertips,
IIIIIIIIIIstreaming like the hairIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII{memories are mankind's
IIIIIIIIIIIIof the two year oldIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIworst enemies.}
running from her mama.

destiny calls like a screeching car that
stops just in time, scorching the
evaporating road –
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIdon't you run away from me!
scolds like an 1800 matron,
worry streaks across the mama's face
and a cry erupts from the child.

people don't even turn their heads
to look. i turn and pass my
untouched – besides the melting –
ice cream to the child and think,
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIi hope my baby turns out like you,
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIwithout the dangerous running.

Autumn (of whirling chaos)

they'd call me soiled if i lived
in history; to give myself away without
a white wedding.
IIIIIIIi call myself soiled too.

the red and orange and brown and simply colourful
leaves grin at me, shouting out equal
curses to the emotions thatIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII{emotions destroyed
claim the same randomness, same chaosIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIus.}
as the colours.

chaos is an amazing word to use
IIIIIIIIIIto explain to no one who listens.
chaos and confusion and damn lovely morning sickness.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII{so much for morning,
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIit continues all day!}
delicious autumn wind cries
to my very tainted pores, my ears that
hold out all day waiting for your voice,
my stomach that clenches when i think
of the child, the baby.IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII{our baby.}

Winter (of shivered cries)

crystallised tears sparkle in the candlelight
as i shiver, shiver, shiver, waiting.
this house is so lonely with draughts
and snow upon the windowsill because
i can't bear to leave the windows closed.

you left a note on the window, you know,IIIIIIIIIIIII{dear lily,
because i loved looking outsideIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIi never wanted a baby but
IIIIIIIIIIIIII- now i can't evenIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIyou want to keep it so i'm leaving.
IIIIIIIIIIbear to look at the glass,IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIcall me after you've given birth,
IIIIIIIIIIIIIthough i still like outside.IIIIIIIIIIIIIImaybe we can work something out.}

pretty snowflakes are all that matters in
this long cold winter as my hand
rubs circles on my ballooning belly and i
secretly insult the ugly maternal clothing.
oh, my tears won't stop falling
and i can't help but think about our memories,
our moonlit walks and wonder if
maybe you miss me too.

Spring (of new beginnings)

the pain is over, the deed is done and
people are sending me congratulations from
everywhere and i silently scream:IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII{your influence has
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIit is not worthy of congratulations!IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIrubbed off on me.}
but i don't give up hope and i dial your number,
bring bring bring, it's ringing for you.

you answer on what seems like the hundredth bring
and i breathe for the first time in what
seems like a year. i utter the words you wantedIIIIIIIIII{i've given birth,
when you first left that noteIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIbut i want you to come back.}
but you tell me to get rid of it – get rid of her.

i turn to the crying crib and i clutch
my hands together and tell you no for the first
time. and you hang up and i know you never loved me.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIInot properly.
so i approach the pitiful bundle and
i pick her up for the first time without needing
to change her or feed her or put her to bed.

thisIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII{maybe
is whatIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIi can be a
love feelsIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIImother with
like.IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIout you.}