They suctioned you out with a hoover and gutted me like a fish
Like a cored apple or the yolk of a hard boiled egg.
Pushmepullme, pushmepullme. Push was me, pulled was you.
And after an hour and half of empty-husk progress promises I clung to like a life-raft,
And a burst of fuschial, nuchal color,
I saw you sail by, grey and splotchy and strangely long,
The unidentified flying baby,
Unmoving, uncrying, unconscious baby.
Not pink, not screaming.
Your father spoke to you and something deep inside you recognized his voice
And you cried and I breathed again.
Hands carried you to me for inspection like a factory shirt they put those stickers on,
“Inspected by #9.”
And I looked into the sapphire dragon’s jewels you had for eyes and you looked back and I sang