Fainting Spell

Pregnant with you, touring the CICU,
I tilted earthward, and the nurses rose
above me like cold lifting waves.
 
Blind to the row of screens singing
about children in lilting waves,
half-hearted children in wire and tube.
 
In half-light through drawn blinds,
they lay like gods, in nests of machine,
hearts stitched with wire, the throat a tube,
 
a door left open to an empty room.
My god was the machine, a nest pregnant
with you. I didn’t know but my body knew.

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