Shipwrecks

the scurrying

sound of footsteps

coming

down the corridor

in the darkness


the panic

that carries me

from the nightmare

to the mother’s bed


the hands that reach out

to haul me in

to save me


I have memories

of shipwrecks

that bear me

back

through the blood

to the first mother

and to the very

first child

that ever lived.

NM

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