This poem is taken from Stand 232, 19(4) January - March 2022.

Danielle Boodoo-FortunÈ Two Poems
Sitting Moon

they say not to worry, milk will flow, and so you wait at the edge of birth, blankets folded down,
buttons undone, his new name beneath your tongue like alleluia

then in the blue seam of the third night it wells up like a moan, draws you terrifying and taut, warm
bowl, fossil and silverskin, fullness and flow
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