Last Sunday
I was driving on the highway at half speed
With an almost flat tire
Not afraid to die because yoga was particularly good that day
I called you because my heart was fat with love
Which is what happens after yoga
I just wanted to say “as far as friends go, you were my first love”
But you stopped me
Because you had something better to say
“I’m pregnant”, you said
And snot exploded onto my steering wheel
And I got the place
Where joy takes the wheel
Which is a dangerous place
Because joy doesn’t drive
And I howled
A real belly-howl
The kind you can’t make just because you want to
You know me
In the particularly painful way
That you have loved and loathed me in the same fiscal year
We have been so many things
For each other
Mother, sister, lover
Today I called you to tell you
You are the thing that grows in my belly

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