A letter
A single-cell,
Stuttering,
Reoccurring,
Scrap on /
The page /
Fragmented/
Born from pain …
A zygote …
Dividing…
Turning inwards;
Malformormed;
Abortorted;
Misbirthirthed-
I would choose-
An embryo that will not close-
(The incomplete attempt)
(Unfertilized emotion)
(Half dead thing)
I would choose-
A single breathing word
Stuck in the back of your throat
Struggling itself to life
Some-thing from no-thing
I would choose-
above-
The metallic baby
Slides clean and bloodless
Out of an artificial womb.
Its cries are only the recordings of cries.
Trimmed of all the anomalies of humanity.
Its first words are only pretty repetitions.
The perfected utterance of a dead universe.
The sedation of skin that never bleeds.
The ease of the baby that never cries.
What does it know of poetry?
What does it know of life?
by Isobel Estibeiro
