celestial mama

Illustration by Gabrielle Conlon.

the moon rises to her feet, swollen-bellied

a newborn pulse flutters beneath pale and stretch-marked skin
she trudges along dark corridors she knows without seeing
fingers smearing trails along the walls–old plaster pockmarked with carbon emissions
should she breathe in too deep, she will smell the smoke that’s been rising from the earth beneath her feet and sinking into the lace curtains of her living room
coming to rest at the top of the stairs–the arc reaching it’s peak
she feels blood rippling low in her belly
(pregnant and fertile–menses and motherhood)
her stomach cramps; her hands rest on the globe of her abdomen
heat bursts beneath her palm as atoms collide and burst
she smiles, a waxing crescent