Birth

This is a facsimile of thoughts

from a specific date on no specific

subject. The thought is incomplete


because the writer had planned on

jotting down a few words in hopes

it would jog memory the next time


it was read back from the hastily

scribbled piece of paper. Instead,

moments of frustration bloomed


in lieu of a full-term child. It could

not cry out, only move its grasping

hands for a world beyond its reach.