1.
Before something is born,
there is discomfort.
There is nausea, vomiting,
the body cleansing itself of toxins.
There is the swelling of feet and joints,
the stretching and growing of protective tissues.
There is pressure on the organs and diaphragm,
pain in the breasts and back.
There is the widening of blood vessels,
the feel of flinging limbs against the walls of the uterus.
Before something is born,
it is carried.
Before something is born,
it acts on the body that holds it,
preparing for the act of radical severance.
2.
The videos and photos show city after city,
signs and hands in the air,
masks held over mouths.
Hundreds of thousands of bodies
bearing weight older than their bones.
The shops are boarded up.
The newsfeeds are saturated with names, verdicts, quotations.
There are voices advocating change,
silence hiding from it.
There is stretching, swelling, discomfort,
as everyone is confronted by truth
they must make room for,
or else shut doors against the burning streets.
3.
We know not what we carry,
but it is much more than the past,
much greater than what we already contain.