I dreamed I was shot at
But didn’t die
The next night
There was a corpse
It wasn’t mine
Something died that night though
Someone even
A part of me
And while that dead body
Was lying in the morgue
I was thinking of procreation
Even celebration
Of creating new life
Now I’m pregnant
With a new me
And can’t wait to see
What kind of person
I will turn out to be
I will turn out to be
What a wonderful imagination you have! I enjoyed this very much.
ReplyDeleteThis is an utter delight with the double entendres all but revealing the truth in your words.
ReplyDeleteOh!!! This is so rich and ripe. I love it!
ReplyDeleteFantastic poem I especially love the last part =)
ReplyDelete