Blighted - a new poem for Tuesday

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Hen-warm—held in her gloating—a child
she dismembers the memory—how he
the image always returns—his lip’s quivering
of the broken—her look up—his words
how she feels at moments like these
betrayal, guilt, anger—something she should
have been responsible for—not broken
not out of control—the ovum—those words
procedure—dilatation—curettage
her husband’s—silent—the ultrasound
empty—the yolk of a new generation
tainted—innards out—like screaming
next time he says—next time

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