Written by Audra Burwell
Thrashing, pulsing, the life demands more room,
Webbed wings spreading, emergence it seeks,
A truth witnessed only by the shrouded moon.
Gazing long into the dazzling moon, I feel rebirth wrapping me in white sheets, As I press a hand to my womb. A great eruption of life is coming soon, A secret nestled deep within my dress’s pleats, A truth witnessed only by the shrouded moon. Titillation floods my mind, forced to swoon, Life spills between my thighs, secretes, As I press a hand to my womb. Thrashing, pulsing, the life demands more room, Webbed wings spreading, emergence it seeks, A truth witnessed only by the shrouded moon. Breasts firm, nipples taut, a blush begins to bloom, The urgency crescendos and the pain repeats, As I press a hand to my womb. You, my lover, stand aside, hidden in the gloom, Lips tight, eyes tick, heart beats, As I press a hand to my womb, A truth witnessed only by the shrouded moon.
Check out this poem, and more of Audra’s work, in print in Serpentine Vol. 3
serpentine 