Little Star: Week 8
by Cameron Morse
(published in Whale Road Review, Issue 9, Winter 2017)
Embryo son, fetus daughter, wherever
you are in your path of orbit, hear
me: I am dying. My brain tumor
is bigger than you are. It is all
the stars together, packed into a snowball
searing bare hands. I could never
say this to your mother, that saintly
apparitional being I so unworthily
married, who hasn’t for a moment
doubted living to be old together,
but if I’m not standing there in my sky
blue gown as you fall headfirst
into the light of this world, it’s because
I passed you on my way out,
grazing your cheek with my blazing tail.
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