Return to Top of Page
Menu
  • Close
  • About Us
  • Contributors
  • Donate
  • Opportunities
  • Staff
  • Submissions
  • 20 Years
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • Search Website
Literary Mama
  • Current Issue
  • Past Issues
  • Departments
  • Blog
  • Newsletter

Poetry | October 2013

Short Duet / Dualities

By Chloe Yelena Miller

Points of light–almost fireflies searching for someone, mate or prey–but then, empty air between cries. Internal eye pressure mimics action. Like you, who stopped being two weeks ago, still tucked inside. On the medical screen, a rounded sac, galactic space debris. That particular silence that lacks a second heartbeat.

Words’ rhythm originates in blood flow, the opening and closing of chambers. Internal iambic pentameter. Here I am with one song left. The doctor probes, searches for you where you were.

Removal: three vaginal pills for $4.35, 1 sick day, generic pain medication, hot water bottle and tea. Removed with a doctor’s script. The opening and closing; release. Goodbye, my sweet.

The noun miscarriage conducts images like electricity. My mother pushed her baby in a tall, navy carriage. Here sunshine, there a new bonnet. Even night rocking. Shocks, seen and unseen beneath the tires.

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Share This Page

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Email
  • Copy Link

Chloe Yelena Miller

Learn More

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Don't miss out on Literary Mama news and updates

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • Instagram
  • RSS

© 2023 Literary Mama | Search Site | About Us | Staff | Submissions | Privacy Policy