For you, who I did not name,
a gastrotubal consequence with not even
your heart, who grew from a dangling vine
fall away, ampulla
for you, numb one, who did not live
nor were never born,
what man made
mistake—I had thought you flawless
took you
in term, the porcelain floor studded red.

Copyright 2006, Anna Marie Craighead-Kintis

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