by Nakia O. Mothershed

I conceived you out of love
hoping you are pure as a dove
being a mother brings me joy
but I'm not pregnant with girl nor boy
giving birth to thought brings me this joy
watching you grow nurturing you still
giving you everything a mother will
who fertilized this egg god only knows
my mind becomes my ovaries
my mouth becomes the birth canal
waiting anxiously for your head to crown
I know unlike man you won't let me down
I don't mean to leave out my beautiful black brothers
hopefully this poem will impregnate another

Pregnant by Nakia O. Mothershed

© Copyright 1998. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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