She dreams wildly, waking only to
Vomit up her youth and yesterday
Her belly grasping for reprieve
As stains of guilt are wiped upon her sleeve.
I cradle her while young myself and unafraid
Feeling sorry for the pleasure I have paid
Awaking momentarily, throwing up her passion and resolve
She fights the tiring need to expose her sin and inward plight
Upon a throne whose gaping well yawns indifferently in the night.
She cries wearily for rest,
As I rock her gently near my chest
Unaware her pain is preordained by time to end
The want for love will come again
Though now she's yammering for sleep.
For motherhood she weeps
And secrets she still keeps.
© Raymond t. Carter 2001
