The newborn stayed silent in her blanket. We buried
our heads in her knees, inhaling field, milk, blossom—
pressed her feet to our cheeks, touched her skull
and quivered before this scripture: unbound
animal pulsing blood and fur between the stars
that find us on our knees—our own feet cold with earth,
our heads soft for molding. When the hour came
to feed, she latched with fury, and I gave her my body.
Maya Pindyck is the author of Emoticoncert
(Four Way Books, 2016), Friend Among Stones
(New Rivers Press, 2009), and a chapbook, Locket, Master
(Poetry Society of America Chapbook Fellowship, 2006). Also a visual artist and doctoral candidate at Columbia University's Teachers College, she lives and teaches in New York City.
more by Maya Pindyck:
Dream Under Erasure