A Woman’s Desire to Be a Mother

Will the tiny hands tapping my chest
ever descend from image to reality
when the small nails will pierce my arms:
unheeding, I’ll grapple with putting the baby to sleep.
The coin-sized mouth would find comfort
in my affectionate lips, salivating my blouse,
showing wonder—absolutely carefree at night.

Males, nature had this smart mechanism
that makes us bow to you!
You craftily take advantage
and make us dance to your tune!

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A Woman’s Desire to Be a Mother

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