Daughter I Bleed
This bruiseberry
pygmy planet thrust from orbit, a circularsweet
red floret
-et
unravelling
artificial light. And maybe
day
given—she’ll sink her teeth into
home
clot abandons my uterus as a
nonpareil. Maybe one day she’ll, too, watch a
snake toil
water: fouetté jeté’s
bedaubed beneath
one
—gravity
these furrowed walls of space and call them