Skin to Skin

a poem (draft of poem)

Skin to Skin


There can be no breakthrough 
without something
   or somebody
breaking

I was numb when you came out of me
I knew you by your cry
I knew you by your tiny, fisted hands
You were wrinkled and blue and resistant 
   to everything
I knew you were mine because you resisted

I knew you by the pins and needles
that awakened my thighs
by my own tears when the nurse came in 
to give you a bath and I wanted to punch her 
fat face for the impassive way 
she marionetted your limbs
   flopped you around
as if you were just another baby
As if you were made for this world

That’s how I knew you would always be inside me
even though you’d broken yourself free


It’s late 
and you’re snuggled up against me
I can’t sleep
I can’t move
The weight of you
   my beautiful you
is crushing
I can’t breathe because I’ve given you all my air

I look at the clock
   the TV, the drab carpet
your little head resting on my arm
I watch my feet 
flexing toward our faces 
   from the edge of the bed
I look up at the ceiling fan
and back down to your mushed-up cheek
pressing against my hot skin

What am I looking for?
Something to break
Something to break open, to break through

It can’t be me because I have to be 
strong for you

It can’t be you
It can’t be you
It can’t be you