fetal mandate
i eat dandelions on the nights the moon won’t come out
there’s a wind in me that needs to be quelled
and i am here counting cannibals
as they gnaw the heads off their lovers
inside myself i’ve hung a photo of a photo of my birth mother
hooked on the hallway of my lungs
so it only hurts every time i breathe
god has a planner, a calendar
scheduling times to kill and times for mercy
the girl grows in a cabbage patch and asks when it’s her turn to flower
holding vigils for my sisters
who are not dead but seem to think that i am
they start a vegetable garden and ask my mother,
no, their mother,
why are some babies born invisible?