cradled gently in her arms
Mother bends her head close to Child
her finger feathers the pure smooth cheek
her hair becomes a sheltering shield
protecting them from prying eyes
in syncopation Mother and Child breathe
one without the womb
Mother’s eyes mist as Child’s hair darkens
her mouth becomes a rigid line
when bluish eyes turn brown
her voice takes on ice
when others note differences
in syncopation Mother and Child breathe
one without the womb
Mother’s heart hardens
her Child wields her wayward will
with terrible temper tantrums
fists and teeth and legs fighting
struggling against Mother’s programming
in syncopation Mother and Child breathe
one without the womb
desperation drives Mother’s dissatisfaction
she tethers Child with demands
her fears feed phobias and fictional afflictions
her disappointment distorts her love
her rejection rips through Child
in syncopation Mother and Child breathe
one without the womb
Mother and Child stab and wound
pushing and pulling in tangled bindings
never severing the umbilical cord
they dance in macabre madness
enmeshed and ensnared within their love-hate trap
in syncopation Mother and Child breathe
one without the womb
Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
