Friday, July 18, 2014

A House Divided by Michael Ondaatje

A House Divided

This midnight breathing
heaves with no sensible rhythm,
is fashioned by no metronome.
Your body, eager
for the extra yard of bed,
reconnoitres and outflanks;
I bend in peculiar angles.

This nightly battle is fought with subtleties:
you get pregnant, I’m sure,
just for extra ground
– immune from kicks now.

Inside you now’s another,
thrashing like a fish,
swinging, fighting
for its inch already.

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